


Reaper's Rising

by Aziell



Series: Reaper's Rising [1]
Category: Guild Wars, Guild Wars 2
Genre: Angst, M/M, REEEEEEEE, Slow Burn, like the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 89,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziell/pseuds/Aziell
Summary: This fanfiction is meant to be able to be read even without playing Guild Wars 2 I've added vital information within the first chapter of the story for those who haven't played the game. This story follows the events of the Sylvari story Chapter 1 all the way to the fall of Zhaitan. Enjoy!Gwyleon is a male Sylvari Necromancer who has lived in The Dream for a little too long for his liking, one day a fateful event changed his life for good. Just before his awakening, he had a vision of a male sylvari that will die in a most gruesome way. Can he prevent this horrible vision from coming to fruition?The Elder Dragon Zhaitan has risen and is threatening all life on Tyria, this story follows his journey to take down the menace and find an unlikely relationship on the way.





	1. History Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Some things may be slightly different than what is considered canon in the world of Guild Wars 2. For example, it is not canon that Sylvari have a heartbeat, but for the purpose of storytelling, this has been added to their description. For more in-depth information see http://nrh.enjin.com/sylvariguide
> 
> Some information may have been left out, if you seek more information on the world of Tyria and its various races, you can read it at https://wiki.guildwars.com/wiki/History_of_Tyria
> 
> I've been working on this for months upon months now, waiting to get the inspiration to actual begin posting on here. I have had had the document laying around on a flash drive for ages. I hope that you guys enjoy it to the fullest!

**Act 1.** **Sylvari Culture and Anatomy**

1325 AE  
The Sylvari are botanical humanoid creatures whom first appeared on the world of Tyria 25 years ago (1300 AE) from the pods of the Pale Tree. The Pale Tree is a magical sentient tree which was growing for over 240 years. The tree was nurtured from a small seed that was found in a cave within the Maguuma Jungle and later planted by a human soldier named Ronan. After finding the seed, Ronan returned to his village only to find his family slaughtered by the Mursaat. The Mursaat were an ancient and powerful race of mages that had been known all across Tyria for their destructive ruthless behavior. After seeing the destruction, Ronan planted the seed of the Pale Tree upon the graves of his family and vowed to never fight again. Shortly after, Ronan made an ally of Ventari, a solitary centaur who supported and aided the founding of their new village at the location of the massacre. The new village named Ventari’s Refuge was a place where all races could come to live in peace. However, as the wars raged on, fewer and fewer people came to the refuge and soon it became devoid of life.

Before he died, Ventari wrote a tablet which described the important lessons that he and Ronan had learned in their lives. Ventari’s Tablet came to be the staple in the culture of a whole new race that would be born in Tyria over 100 years later. The 7 lessons on Ventari’s Tablet offered guidance and nurtured the young Sylvari into an inquisitive and strong race.

Sylvari share many anatomical similarities with humans, it is thought that the reason for this is because of Pale Tree’s image of the human soldier who planted her, Ronan. While humans and Sylvari are both similar in appearance, there are a few key differences between the races. First of all, they are made of fleshy plant material which for an intensive purposes, works exactly like human flesh does. Something very unique to Sylvari is their bioluminescent qualities which coordinates with the color of the sap that runs in their veins. Additionally, Sylvari glow during the times in which light is not available, why this happens is unknown. While Sylvari are plant-like in appearance and structure, they do have skeletons that consist of very dense bark just like human bone. They also have a very complex system of nerves which allows them to feel things such as cold or pain. The eyes of the Sylvari race are catlike in appearance and come in many vibrant colors. It is thought that they have a better grasp on seeing in low light conditions compared to humans. Being born from the Pale Tree, Sylvari are not able to reproduce as humans do and while they do have secondary sex characteristics, the sexual activity that they may indulge in does not bear any offspring and is purely for recreational purposes. The Sylvari have organs such as a heart and lungs as well as intestines and a stomach to digest and absorb the nutrients from any food that they consume. Sylvari have the ability to become inebriated as well, which leads many to believe they have the same kind of ability to absorb chemicals into their bloodstream as humans do.

The idea of modesty was soon introduced to them by the other races (particularly humans) and thus the Firstborn grew leaves and bark from themselves which acted like clothes or armour as to not offend the other races. The ‘hair’ of the Sylvari is the same as the armour that grows from them, it is an extension of themselves and just like humans, they choose to wear it different ways to express individualism. Even though Sylvari armour and hair is an extension of themselves, it would not injure one to remove it similar to the human fingernail or hair because it is without nerve endings. Often times, hairstyles will be based off of different kinds of already existing plants in the world such as water reeds, cattails, or even different kinds of succulents. While most plants are typically seen as green in color, Sylvari have the ability to have many different skin tones such as cherry red or even pure white.

Emotionally, Sylvari are still a developing race with a developing culture. They may struggle to understand concepts such as racism, sexism, or any other negative prejudices that plague other races for one reason or another. Sylvari also struggle with the concept of the potential presence of divine entities. As a collective race, they share an agnostic view on the idea of gods where as human culture is based deeply from their belief in gods. While many races would assume that the Sylvari worship the Pale Tree like a god, they actually view the Pale Tree as a mother and a caretaker.

While Sylvari struggle with emotions sometimes such as empathy, they have a very tight grasp on the concept of love. Unlike humans, they have no preference or understanding of gender roles in their partners. To the Sylvari, love is not in appearance, but is ethereal and purely emotional, although, this does not mean that they cannot have a physical desire for their partner. Sylvari relationships are incredibly close knit and the death or change of a loved one can affect them for the rest of their lives. Behavior within relationships is shown to be very similar to human relationships; for example the notable increase in physical contact and devotion to each other. While there are no documented polyamorous relationships between Sylvari, the race is still new and it is very possible that these relationships could exist.

Over the past 25 years, the culture of the Sylvari has flourished and changed greatly. Sylvari are a curious race that enjoy finding new things to discover and learn about, nevertheless, arguably the most prominent part of Sylvari culture is The Dream. The Dream is a vision that Sylvari see before they awaken into the real world and the exact origin of the dream is unknown. The Dream tells Sylvari many things that other Sylvari have seen throughout their lives such as the ways of language and other kinds of useful skills such as cooking, fighting, or even crafting. Sylvari do not see or learn everything in The Dream, only things that may pertain to their life and what they may be good at and under no circumstances does a Sylvari have to follow what their dream suggests to them. Various seedlings will experience a rare occurrence in The Dream which clearly outlines to them a specific purpose in life, something that they will always have a desire to achieve. This particular kind of occurrence is called a Wyld Hunt and only a few Sylvari have such dreams and those that have these kinds of dreams are called Wyld Hunt Valiants by their peers.

While The Dream nurtures and comforts new saplings, there are some that reject The Dream for whatever reason. Generally, there are two groups of Sylvari that reject the dream in some fashion, the Soundless, and the Nightmare Court. While they are similar to each other in this respect, they are vastly different in purpose. The Soundless are those who have no desire to hear the whispers of The Dream and move away from the Pale Tree as to try and escape and grasp that The Dream may have on their minds and being. Typically, The Soundless live in small groups and do not cause harm to any that come across them. The Nightmare Court, on the other hand, is a ruthless group of Sylvari who have not only rejected The Dream, but have turned to Nightmare instead and wish to destroy the Pale Tree in hopes of ‘liberating’ their former allies as they say. Sylvari are easily manipulated by the promise of something new, and the Nightmare Court takes full advantage of this in order to gain new members for their group; it is said that once you turn to Nightmare, there is no returning to The Dream. Alternatively, if negotiation fails, the Nightmare Court has often resorted to violence to get what they want.

 

**Act 2. The World of Tyria**

The world of Tyria is a lush, vibrant continent filled with a plethora of different races and cultures. Tyria is a world rich with with potent magic that the races of Tyria have tapped into naturally over time. The world has undergone many changes over thousands of recorded years, from the various risings of Elder Dragons which shook the continent to its core, to the clashing of divine entities that burned away oceans.

One of the most important events known as the “Guild Wars” is an anthology of wars that ravaged the human race during their development on Tyria. Humans are not a race that is native to Tyria and originally did not have the use of magic. Divine beings that the humans call ‘gods’ brought the race to Tyria and shortly after were secretly awarded magic by the god named Abaddon to contend with the other races in the world. Unfortunately, after being awarded magic, the humans began to fight amongst themselves enough to where a representative begged the gods to remove the magic they had been given. As they had been asked, the other gods removed most of the magic that Abaddon had given to the humans and sealed it away within a bloodstone that was housed in a volcano. Abaddon was imprisoned in the Realm of Torment and his name was stricken from history. The volcano that held the bloodstone later erupted and pieces of the bloodstone were scattered throughout the world. Humans, who founded the nations of Orr, Cantha, Elona, Kryta, and Ascalon which later gave birth to powerful groups called guilds. As the volcano erupted and scattered the pieces of the bloodstone, the guilds warred with each other over control of the power within the bloodstones.

It was during the last Guild War that the race of the Charr, a powerful, large, and catlike race of ruthless warriors attacked the human nation of Ascalon. The attack was fueled by revenge from when the humans pushed the Charr out of their lands as they expanded Eastward. The Charr knew that this was a good time to attack the humans because they had been weakened by fighting themselves during the Guild Wars. They struck the humans hard with magical artifacts called Searing Cauldrons and burned the lands of Ascalon. When Ascalon fell, the Charr turned their attention to Orr which was South beyond the Crystal Desert. When the Charr approached the smaller continent of Orr, a man named Vizier Khilbron (the ex-advisor to King Reza of Orr) read a powerful scroll that promised to bring ruin to their enemies. The ex-advisor stole it from Arah, the capital and holy city of the gods in Orr and took it to his tower and released the magic of the scroll. With a flash of light and an explosion of flame the nation of Orr crumbled and was lost into the depths of the Sea of Sorrows. The Cataclysm defeated the Charr invaders, but Orr was also lost in the process.

After the events of the Cataclysm, a group of heroes was called by a purified dragon champion of Kralkatorrik named Glint in regards to the a compilation of various proclamations otherwise known as the Flameseeker Prophecies. The prophecies foretold of the fall of the Mursaat who had been sacrificing humans on top of a bloodstone (a piece of a bloodstone which is filled with an immense amount of magical energy) in order to provide magic to a gate in the Fire Island Chain south of Orr. The Mursaat gate, which was powered by these sacrifices held a destructive race of malformed creatures simply called the Titans which resided in the Realm of Torment. Against the odds, the group of heroes had succeeded in opening the gate and allowed the Titans to destroy the Mursaat, thus ending the race for the foreseeable future. Afterwards, the Titans were re-sealed behind the gate with the Scepter of Orr which was a powerful artifact that controlled the forces from beyond the known reality.

However, the threat of fighting between the races, nor the bloodstones were the most destructive force on Tyria. The threat of Elder Dragons is and was constant as they were strong enough to bring ruin to any race. Each Elder Dragon controlled a different kind of magic respectfully.

 **Zhaitan** , the Elder Dragon of Death and Shadow  
**Jormag** , the Elder Dragon of Ice  
**Primordus** , the Elder Dragon of Fire and Earth  
**Mordremoth** , the Elder Dragon of Plant and Mind  
**Kralkatorrik** , the Elder Dragon of Crystal  
**Elder Dragon of the Sea** , which has not yet appeared in Tyria.

Although the world of Tyria is quite large, for reasons unknown, the Elder Dragons have only been observed to be active in one corner of the world. Elder Dragons seem to only have one purpose which is to recycle the overflowing magic that runs rampant in the world of Tyria. The dragons serve as a force of nature that control the magic by consuming it and later leaking it back into the world. Unfortunately, the Elder Dragons consume magic by destroying everything in their path, and it is said that the last time the dragons rose was over 11,000 years ago when the race of Giganticus Lupicus (otherwise known as the Great Giants) disappeared from the world. While there are many creatures that have draconic appearances (Wyverns and Drakes) they show no evidence of having the same kind of power as Elder Dragons.

It was during this time that the seed of the Pale Tree was planted and the formation of Ventari’s Refuge occured. There was no one who could foresee that this tree would give birth to an entirely new race of beings known as the Sylvari.


	2. Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon experiences a disturbing presence in the dream and doesn't awaken in the way he expected.

Gwyleon’s emerald green orbs surveyed the text written on the half-translucent book he held in his hands. There was a thick miasma around him that made up the basis of The Dream that made him feel both relaxed and at home.

Gwyleon had lived in the dream for longer than he could remember. He had learned various things about the world of Tyria in which he would one day wake up in. His favorite pastime was reading the various scripts and listening to verbal stories that told him about the history of the world. He had read many stories of legendary fighters that once lived in the world of Tyria.

Although, reading wasn’t the only thing that occupied him in the dream, there was a constant flow of memory wisps that could float near him and display the memories of the Sylvari before him who had spent many years in the world. Some of them had returned to the dream through death to educate those who would one day awaken. Many of the stories were about adventure and learning new things, but many were also about sadness and the bad things about the world. He couldn’t exactly understand these ill feelings of loss or regret, but they did intrigue him so.

Oh how the thought of the day to awaken excited him so, he was eager to join his kind in the real world, but for whatever reason he was kept within the dream longer than most other Sylvari he met there. He couldn’t help but feel impatience burning in his heart as he read tidbits of information about a race called the Skritt. Crafty creatures they were, stealing things that weren’t theirs right from under the nose of the owners of the items.

He ran his fingers through the mess of short vibrant green leaves that made up his hair as an ache ran through his skull. Perhaps, he figured, that was enough reading for today. His skin was the color of dark moss and he adorned an emerald green glow just under his skin at night.It didn’t exactly aid him when trying to read in the dark.

“Gwyleon!” a feminine voice rang out with a fading echo. A small cerulean-skinned Sylvari female with a cobalt bud and leafy blue tendrils on her head called from below the platform Gwyleon was standing on.

Gwyleon cringed inwardly at the voice that stung his ears and he closed the book with a soft thumping sound “Nymeli, please don’t yell so much, you could wake the dead” he grumbled as his fingers rubbed his temple.

“Aww come on, don’t be such a thorn. I heard that Riannoc is going to talk about dragons today!” her white eyes glistened in wonder at the thought of hearing more stories from the Firstborn.

“I hate to think that you’d be bothering one of the Firstborn about something like that…” Gwyleon suppressed a sigh as he placed the translucent book on the table. “You know how somber he gets about that stuff, it’s just that many keep bothering him to talk about dragons” he knew he wouldn’t want to be bothered all the time by a bunch of other annoying Sylvari.

Nymeli put a hand up to her chin “I’m not exactly sure why, but he said yes so what’s the harm?”

“Yeah...” Gwyleon turned from the table and carefully walked down the stairs and stopped a little ways after passing by Nymeli “I’m kind of tired of stories I’ve heard a million times, I want to experience the real world, not… This over and over” his hand made small circles in the air.

“Well if _you_ know so much why don’t _you_ start teaching us what you know” Gwyleon could feel the smug expression on her even without looking.

“Because you-” Suddenly, an ear-splitting roar filled the silence of The Dream. A thick green soupy essence filled the air and stung Gwyleon’s nose when he breathed.

“Wha!” Nymeli yelped as the ground they stood on trembled in anger.

“By the Pale Tree… What is going on?” Gwyleon’s eyes fixated on the clearing ahead.

 

\---

 

Gwyleon and Nymeli emerged into the clearing that was littered in thick brambles that leaked a poisonous green liquid onto the ground, dark leafy hounds were fighting with various other Sylvari who had not yet awoken. The air was thick with an angry presence that weighed down on Gwyleon’s heart.

“You there, Valiant!” a voice called from across the clearing.

Gwyleon ran over to the half-translucent Sylvari that called for him, Nymeli close behind. He quickly recognized the Sylvari as Caithe, one of the firstborn, by the white leaves and cattails that made up her hair.

“What’s going on here?!” Gwyleon shouted over the constant fighting and roaring from something in the distance. It felt as if The Dream itself was going to tear in two.  
  
“Ah, I am glad you can see me, you can hear me from where you are in The Dream? I am Caithe, one of the Sylvari firstborn.”  
  
“Within The Dream? Where are you?” Gwyleon questioned anxiously as a thorny tendril dug into the ground near his feet.  
  
“I am within Tyria, a land far away from where you are, you’ll awaken soon, but I can’t explain everything, we’re running out of time. Something is poisoning the dream and I need your help to stifle this corruption” her voice was laced with concern as her eyes scanned the clearing that was slowly becoming overrun with thorny tendrils.

 _‘Yes, it’s pretty clear by now that some kind of foul entity had entered The Dream’_ Gwyleon thought bitterly. Something grotesque was attempting to corrupt the very space they stood.

Nymeli fidgeted at the words, the fear was evident in her wide-eyed stare.

“Of course” Gwyleon answered curtly, the temptation of awakening drawing his answer “I’ll do whatever you need me to do”.

“Your spirit is strong, head to the far embarkment, I’ll meet you there” with that, Caithe’s figure disappeared from view.

“Finally!” Gwyleon reveled as he unsheathed a small branch that he used as a staff. His attention was caught by Nymeli who he couldn’t help notice was fidgeting with her hands.

“Uhh, Gwyleon, I’m kind of worried, what will happen to everyone else?” Her eyes were fixated on the ground, but he could hear the anxiety in her voice.  
  
Gwyleon bent over and picked up a small wooden axe that was lying on the ground that someone must have dropped and tossed it to the blue Sylvari “They’ll be fine, maybe everyone will awaken after we take care of this thing. Now quit your foolish fidgeting, it’s time to fight!”.

Nymeli reluctantly caught the axe and gave a concerned expression “Well… If you say so..”

The bridge ahead was overrun with sickly-looking plant hounds, they wore furious expressions and looked to rip apart anything that stood in their way. They looked similar to the Fern Hounds that were present in The Dream, they were loyal to the Sylvari. These creatures, however, leaked a slimy green substance from their leaves and looked eager to maul and kill.

Gwyleon was a Necromancer by choice, he found great interest in death and shadow magic. He had even learned to pull small bits of dark magic from the air and use them to strike down dummies that had been placed around the various training areas in The Dream.

With a swift movement he ripped the dark matter from the air and the tip of his staff alit with a dark flame. He allowed the magic to find its target in the form of a reaching claw that maimed the hounds voraciously until they fell over with a loud shriek and disappeared into nothing but a wisp. Gwyleon felt a chilling sensation when a green orb that represented its life-force floated towards him and into his body.

Nymeli was close behind, the axe held tightly and nervously to her chest as her eyes looked around wildly for more hounds. She couldn’t see the orbs, obviously, but she seemed relatively impressed at Gwyleon’s confidence.

At last they came to another clearing, a large mound of thorns, wilted leaves, and wood that sat in the middle shifted. With an aching sound a massive plant-like dragon dug itself from the ground and released a blood-curdling screech that shook Gwyleon to his core. The ground trembled and attempted to throw both Sylvari off their feet.

“Quickly, we must end this corruption! The Pale Tree has granted me a corporeal body in this world for a short time!” Caithes voice called out over the roar of the nightmare beast. Her blue and green daggers were unsheathed and ready to meet their enemy.

Gwyleon snapped out of his stupor at the call, his green eyes trailing Caithe as she launched herself onto the beast, her daggers sinking into its bark on its flank. The creature wailed in agony and attempted to shake the Sylvari woman off but to no avail.

Gwyleon lifted his hand and with a quick movement snatched some of the darkness from the air and sent it flying at the beast’s head, a long, sharp claw dug into its snout.

The attack made a deep gash in the dragon’s snout and in response it turned its attention to the Sylvari that dare challenge it with a deafening roar. With a hulking slam of its tail it launched Gwyleon against a rock wall, his staff landed squarely on a rock and snapped in half, the pieces of oak clattering on the ground.

“Gah!” Gwyleon choked as he gasped for air, his vision blurred momentarily around the edges.

“Gwyleon!” Nymeli called as she began sprinting towards Gwyleon. The nightmare roared in anger and aimed a massive oaken foot for Nymeli. The blue Sylvari had let her guard down.

Gwyleon’s eyes flashed in horror and in what felt like a single second he reached for a huge thorn that had fallen from the nightmare dragon, threw his body towards Nymeli, and stabbed it deep in the webbing of the toes on the beast. He landed on the ground with a painful thud and his face was splattered with green sap.

The dragon furiously screeched as the thorn was pulled from its toes, it’s glowing green eyes winced in pain as it attempted to lick at the wound for a brief moment.  
  
In that moment of pause Gwyleon picked himself up off the ground and grasped the thorn in both hands. In a swift but pained movement he threw himself at the beast, burying the thorn deep in its skull as it was occupied. The familiar feeling of death essence surrounded him as the nightmare fell to the ground in a heap of wrecked wood and brambles.

A chilled feeling of darkness overtook him as the vision disappeared. Suddenly, a blazing green light overtook Gwyleon’s vision, it hurt his eyes but he couldn’t help but look at what the vision seemed to form into. A male Sylvari hung by his wrists from a thorny vine, the thorns dug deeply into his wrists and his head was hung forward. He was horribly injured, golden sap leaked from every cut on his mangled body. It hurt Gwyleon’s heart deeply to see him for some reason, a pain unexplainable by words alone. To his dismay, he felt a pull towards a large broken thorn-like greatsword that radiated with potent magical energy that was tossed to the side.

Some force willed him to pick it up and move towards the mangled male Sylvari. Pain and sadness tormented Gwyleon’s heart as he was forced to move the sword slowly towards the poor Sylvari whose faded golden eyes stared at him agony. The golden glow under his skin was slowly fading with every moment that passed. Gwyleon couldn’t speak as the vision faded and the anguish slowly began to recede. His vision faded to darkness.

 

\---

 

The memory of the nightmare he witnessed beforehand was fresh in his mind, his chest ached with a feeling he did not understand.

The soft sound of thumping rung quietly in Gwyleon’s ears, a sound he hadn’t heard before until now. The sound lulled him even though his mind told him he needed to wake up.

Wait… Wake up? The realization struck him like a thorn in the side. His eyes slowly cracked open to a blinding white light. There were shadows dappled on his face, the sun casting warm rays through the foliage above him.

He sat up slowly on what he found to be a green hammock-like bed. How long had he been sleeping here? Wasn’t he just fighting some nightmare beast? What happened to The Dream? Who was that male Sylvari he saw?

The questions swam in his head and made him dizzy, he grasped his skull with both hands and made a groaning noise and held his head downwards.

Upon looking down, however, he noticed that he was covered in a light layer of foliage that he had unconsciously grown as a kind of armour. The olive toned leaves covered his chest, midriff, and hips. He didn’t remember looking like this in the dream, but then again, he couldn’t particularly remember the small details.

“Ah! Finally awake!” an annoyingly cheerful voice broke the constant stream of questions in his head.

A banana-toned male Sylvari was standing next to Gwyleon, his yellow eyes had a warm, friendly feeling to them.

“Yeah, I got that much” Gwyleon grumbled.

“Do not worry, sapling, the feeling will wear off soon. You awoke in an unusual way, Caithe told me everything. My name is Mender Serimon” he explained.

“Caithe? She was here?” Gwyleon asked eagerly “How about a Sylvari by the name of Nymeli? Is she awake?” he asked impatiently, his green eyes flickering between the split pods and newly-awakened Sylvari around him. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined awakening to the world.

“Ah yes, Nymeli, she awakened a while ago and is in the Grove resting, you need not worry yourself about her fate” Serimon offered his hand to Gwyleon.

Gwyleon studied the hand before gingerly taking it and standing up from his hammock. He felt strength rush into his limbs and a powerful feeling wash over his body. Perhaps this is the ability of a mender.

“Thank you” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I think it’d be best for me to see Caithe, there is much I must know”.  
  
Serimon offered a knowing smile “Of course, the entrance to the Grove is to the left”.

With a wave, Gwyleon made his way into the Grove. The sight of so many Sylvari drove the words from his mouth. Beautiful blue bioluminescent lights guided him as he traveled towards the base of the Pale Tree. Fireflies danced around each clearing as the chatter of his people filled his leafy ears. The smell of fresh spring water made a tingly feeling wash over his body. He was filled with such warm thoughts that he almost thought he would be content if he never left the Grove. He was right from the beginning, this was infinitely better than being in The Dream, he just wished that he could have been here sooner.

Caithe’s house was at the lowest portion of the Pale Tree’s bough, he would make it eventually… After some exploring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, more to come! :D


	3. Shrouded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon learns more about his dream, and is introduced to a potent new form of magic.

The stars shone dimly in the dusky sky, splatters of light still shone down through the leaves of the Pale Tree.

“I need to find a quiet corner of the world just for me, where I only have my own emotions to deal with” Gwyleon’s acute tea-green ears picked up a lingering conversation as he made his way through the Grove, his feet scuffing on the soft bark below.

Further down the wooden path that made up the middle rung of the Pale Tree, a male and female Sylvari appeared to be arguing about something. Gwyleon’s curiosity made him approach the scene, but he stayed far enough away to not appear overly suspicious.   
  
“I’ll be lonely…” the female Sylvari spoke quietly, a downtrodden tone to her voice.   


The male Sylvari scoffed “Perhaps, but I must find a way to break this curse”.

“The dream is NOT a curse!” the female sylvari shouted at him angrily, Gwyleon could see the tears beginning to form in her pale yellow eyes.

He felt irritance burning in his chest, how could some Sylvari see The Dream as a curse? The Dream taught them about the life they would one day see, and while he did remember being mildly distressed about lingering there a bit too long for his liking, he recognized that it was an integral part of his introduction to the world of Tyria.

Gwyleon abandoned the conversation, he didn’t want to hear any more of it. Instead, another lingering conversation found his ears from a nearby bar-like structure. The sounds of cups clinking against each other and a sign that said ‘Constellation Shelter’ invited him closer.   
  
“I felt its emotions so strongly, it nearly knocked me off my feet.” a feminine voice lingered quietly in the air, obviously a continuation from an earlier conversation.   
  
“How terrifying for you. What did you do?” another female voice asked, awaiting more of the story.

“I grabbed onto the nearest thing, which turned out to be a Norn. He nearly knocked me off my feet too!” the two women laughed heartily, the drinks that they held swashed around in their mugs and littered droplets onto the table in which they were sitting.

Gwyleon huffed _‘what a dumb conversation…’_ his mind urged him to leave. Perhaps it was time to go to Caithe’s house. Clearly dawdling around the Grove listening to other Sylvari wasn’t going to get him anywhere. They didn’t seem to have the sense of urgency that he had.

Out of the corner of his eye, a seed pod with a dandelion puff on the top floated towards him, his curious emerald gaze trailed it as it came closer to him until it finally rested in the palm of his hand. It almost felt like the pod had a mind of its own as a hatch opened and revealed a small green scroll hiding inside.

With the utmost delicacy, Gwyleon pulled the scroll from the inside of the seed pod, in response the pod closed the small hatch with a small click. The dandelion puff on top made a jellyfish-like motion as it disappeared into the starry sky.

It was the first time he noticed what time of day it was, in The Dream, there was a slight difference between ‘day’ and ‘night’, but the sheer beauty of the stars that were slowly appearing in the pink and purple sky were unlike anything he had seen before. He was so captivated by retreat of dusk that he almost forgot about the scroll entirely.

The scroll was obviously put together quite hastily, the paper was frayed at the edges and the twine that held it together was knotted tightly. The stamp was made of a waxy substance that was smooth to the touch, a small green emblem of a tree was present in the wax.It was the emblem of the Grove.

Gwyleon removed the seal and began reading the hastily written letters on the paper.

 

‘Valiant Gwyleon,

I request your presence in Dreamers Terrace, there is someone that I’d like you to meet to speak about the cycle in which you awakened, Dusk. There is also an important matter at hand that I’d like your help investigating, there is also the matter of your Wyld Hunt that must be discussed. it is best that we speak in person. 

-Firstborn Caithe’

 

Ah, right, he had awoken during dusk, hadn’t he? There were many stories he had heard within The Dream that explained how different Sylvari could be depending on when they awakened into the world. Many of the Firstborn would stay at the Grove to teach the new Sylvari about the time in which they awakened. 

The two Sylvari that came to his mind that awakened during the time of Dusk were Trahearne, Kahedins, and one other name he had forgotten for some reason. However, he didn’t know what they looked like, only the names were revealed to him in The Dream.

Gwyleon knew exactly what his Wyld Hunt was, the dragon in his dream was a pretty good indicator that he was destined to destroy a dragon somewhere in the world. He recalled the name of Zhaitan which made a shiver run up his spine and determination course through his veins.

However, there was another pressing matter to his dream, the sight of the male Sylvari strung up by his wrists still made his skin crawl and his stomach flip. Why did the vision concern him so? It wasn’t nearly as clear as the dragon, and it bothered him a great deal.

Gwyleon rolled up the letter carefully and carried it with him as he made his way towards Dreamers Terrace. The terrace was beautiful, from what he knew, every part of the Grove had been grown over the years by the Sylvari who had awakened before him, this was no exception.

This was his home, he was told in his dream that he would one day live here. He wouldn’t have wanted to live anywhere else anyways. The fireflies danced around him in their own unique song as he pushed away the leaves covering the door to the terrace.

The terrace was as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. Twinkling blue droplets hung from the ceiling and emitted a cerulean glow that made the house feel warm and wonderous. Large arching wooden ramps covered in illuminated cerulean markings led to the upper portions of the terrace where he could hear many voices of Sylvari speaking to each other. There was a training area with wooden dummies, a small clear pool of water, and even some fern hounds relaxing nearby. Across the room, Caithe was speaking to a male Sylvari that he had not seen before.

Gwyleon could tell that they were both Firstborn, they held that aura around them tightly like a vine choking a tree. He couldn’t help but feel giddy when he watched them. Though, even he knew that they were more than capable of many dangerous things.

“Ah, Valiant” Caithe was the first to notice him standing near the entrance to the terrace “I want you to meet Kahedins, he was born during the cycle of Dusk as you were and can help you interpret your dream”. Her voice was laced with a hint of impatience, perhaps Caithe was not as fond of The Grove as she let on to be. Or perhaps she wasn’t exactly fond of him or Kahedins.

Even though she was impatient and dangerous, Caithe was beautiful. Her skin was the color of pastel mint and her lighter-green hair sprouted cattails from the base of her head. She was dressed in lithe dark green Sylvari armour that she had grown to protect herself. Several pods that likely carried poison were wrapped around her waist with a thin vine along with her two razor-edged daggers that he remembered seeing in his dream.

Kahedins, however, was not dressed in the typical Sylvari fashion, he also did not wield any weapons. Purple leather armour adorned his body and clashed with the green misty tone of his skin. His hair looked very similar to Gwyleon’s, though it was faded and many of the leaves were torn. 

He concluded that while the Firstborn were both wise and powerful, they had also been around long enough to lose the just-awakened glow that most newborn Sylvari adorned for awhile.

Sheepishly, Gwyleon made his way over to the pair and felt Kahedins’ eyes burn into him. “So, sapling, tell me about what you saw in your dream.”

The memory was as fresh as newly sprouted grass in his mind “The turmoil started when the nightmare seeped into The Dream, another Sylvari, Nymeli, and I killed a huge plant-like nightmare dragon that had embedded itself in The Dream”. He paused, thinking even further back to anything that may be important.

“However, before the attack, I remember seeing a beautiful and radiant white stag, it was running away from me and I struggled to catch it. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it’s quite prevalent in my memory”

Internally, Gwyleon struggled to decide if he would speak about the image of the man he saw. The sadness that prickled in his chest made him desire to keep it a secret.

“I know about the dragon, I’ve heard that your Wyld Hunt is to end the corruption of Zhaitan, much like Caithe. You and her have many similarities in your dreams” Kahedins deep voice echoed in the terrace.

“As for the White Stag, I have heard that one has been seen near the Verdance in Caledon Forest. I am sure that it is part of your destiny to capture the beast, I wish you luck in your hunt”.

The Firstborn was very, very brief in explaining the meaning of Gwyleon’s deam, so much so that he couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated. 

Wasn’t this a bit more serious? Did the Firstborn even care? The questions ran through his head and his face contorted in displeasure.

“Ahh… I see. Right. Well, I’ll just have to make my way to the Verdance then if it is destined that I do so” _‘at least it’s not cooking…’_ he added the thought.

“Zhaitan is a very powerful foe, Valiant, I would not rush yourself as you have much to learn about the world” Caithe’s calm voice brought him back to the conversation. “Seek the White Stag, this is but the first step in your life”

Gwyleon honestly didn’t care about the animal, he was impatient and eager to do something important. With a resigned sigh, he departed from Dreamers Terrace and emerged into the Grove once more. 

_‘This is.. not what I imagined..’_ he thought bitterly. Though, the mention of hunting did bring his attention to the fact that he did not have a weapon of his own anymore. 

The staff he had used in The Dream was nothing more than a mirage and was not part of the real world (and even if it was it’d be all but in pieces).

A sigh escaped his lips as he made towards the exit of the Grove, he would find something better to defend himself eventually, but a branch that laid on the ground was good enough for him for the time being.

 

\---

 

“The Nightmare Court are a group of Sylvari who have rejected the dream and have turned to Nightmare. They kill anyone who gets in their way and once you turn to Nightmare, there is no going back” Caithe’s hushed voice found Gwyleon’s ears.

Earlier in the day, he had tracked the Stag through the Verdance with the help of a Sylvari named Gavin. 

Much to his displeasure, Gwyleon was foolishly deceived by the man once they caught the stag. Gavin made off with the animal once he revealed he was in the Nightmare Court and Gwyleon had to request the aid of Caithe to collect the stag before it was turned to nightmare.

They hid in a bush within the Nightmare Court camp, unknowingly studying the various patrols of corrupted Sylvari that paced through the area. Gavin was nowhere to be seen.

There was one notable Sylvari amongst the rest of the Nightmare Court. A courtier officer named Sariel was in charge of the camp, she wielded a massive thorn greatsword sheathed on her back. 

Gwyleon did note that the sword held a bright green glow, though it obviously was not created in the Grove. 

Either way, one well-placed hit from the sword would surely send him back to the Grove with limbs missing from his body.

Gwyleon’s hands gripped the branch tightly as an idea formed in his mind “How about I make a distraction by challenging Sariel while you retrieve the stag, can you do it?”

“I’m a Firstborn, Valiant, of course I can” and with that, Caithe disappeared into shadow.

Gwyleon looked around carefully with bright green eyes before slipping from the bush and appearing in the camp, his branch in hand.

“My my! Such negligence to let an enemy slip right into your camp unnoticed!” he shouted into the clearing. 

At least 12 courtier guards stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and furocity laden in their eyes. They looked more than ready to beat him to a pulp.

“Sariel!” Gwyleon pointed his branch at the officer whose skin was icy blue. Her hair resembled a pine cone, though this wasn’t any time to be judging her on her fashion choices. He could swear that he saw thorns prickle furiously on her armour. 

“How about a challenge, if you win, you can convert me to nightmare or kill me. If I win, I humiliate you in front of all your friends!” Gwyleon couldn’t help but grin, he  _ would _ make this plan work.

Across the clearing, Caithe was carefully and quietly unlocking the bamble cage that held the white stag. A concerned expression spread onto her face as the courtiers approached Gwyleon and surrounded him in a circle.

“Fine, twig. You’ve got my attention and I’ll destroy you just like the rest of your little friends” the officer unsheathed her greatsword and pointed it at Gwyleon “You’ll regret your decision once I stomp you into the ground”

“If you can catch me that is!” Gwyleon snickered as he reached into the air and ripped away the darkness just as he did within the dream.

The branch he was holding was a bit better at channeling his power than the branch he wielded in The Dream. Every time he attacked a long shadowy blade would form on top of the staff that resembled the blade of a scythe.

With a brisk movement, Sariel dashed towards Gwyleon with a surprising burst of speed, her sword was aimed squarely at his head. She planned to finish him as quickly as possible.

Gwyleon nimbly dodged away before she could land the likely devastating blow. The sword dug into the dirt, kicking up dust in its wake.

“Stay still, weed!” the officer hissed as she readied another attack. 

Gwyleon could see her eyes flicker towards one of the courtier guards that made up the circle surrounding him. The idea that this wasn’t ever meant to be a fair fight crossed his mind.

The flash of surprise caught in his chest as a courtier guard coiled his thorny vine whip around Gwyleon’s leg and pulled him to the ground as he readied to dodge Sariel’s blade once more. His staff was knocked from his hands and landed several feet away.

Gwyleon’s luminescent green eyes flashed in panic as the sword aimed straight for his back. There was no way he would be able to survive the cleave of her greatsword directly on his spine.

Suddenly, an explosion of darkness and shadow emitted from his body. Gwyleon felt himself lift off the ground, his bark leaking a cold deathly magic. 

Sariel was launched across the clearing and fell onto the dusty ground with a rough thud, her greatsword stuck point-first into the dirt.

Gwyleon felt the long snath of a scythe with a menacing curved blade form in his hands. The weapon was made of pure shadow and radiated with dangerously potent magic. 

A devious grin crawled on his face even though it could not be seen through the dark shroud that shielded him from attackers.

He only heard various screams around him as he whirled the scythe in a circular motion around him, cleaving the courtiers that surrounded the fight in their abdomens.

The many courtiers fell into a heap of bodies splattered in the sap that once flowed through their veins. There were a few whines and groans before silence fell over the camp.

Sariel stared at the scene, pure chilling fear evident in her dilated pupils. She lay on the ground facing Gwyleon, unarmed and defeated. 

“I… I surrender! Take what you want! Anything!” she cried, her voice shaking in petrification. 

Gwyleon didn’t want to stop, he could feel the life force from the enemies he had killed wrap around his arms, strengthening his shroud. 

As he approached Sariel, no words came from his mouth, only the cracking of his shroud magic could be heard.

“I beg you!” she pleaded in fear as she saw the reaper walk towards her.

With a swift movement, Gwyleon raised the staff into the air and brought it down upon his victim, the blade pierced squarely into her chest. 

With a ragged gurgle, Sariel’s essence faded and was added to Gwyleon’s life-force.

The shroud dissipated like a thick cloak from Gwyleon’s body and his consciousness returned to normal. 

Nearby, Caithe looked at the scene with a mixture of curiosity and horrified surprise.

“By the Pale Tree”

“Huh?” Gwyleon turned to her, the mistiness in his mind fading “Well.. That’s never happened before, but I guess that’s one way to take care of the problem” 

A chuckle radiated from his chest. “How fares the beast?”

“The stag is... unharmed” she paused, eyes trailing over the bodies that were likely just going to be left in the camp for someone else to find.

“Come, let’s return to the Grove, there is much to discuss and I do not believe that I have enough knowledge about this… Power” she gestured to Gwyleon, her hand wrapped tightly around the lead that guided the stag.

Caithe couldn’t help but feel astonished, not once had she seen a newly awakened Sylvari wield so much power. She almost believed that he could potentially match her in a fight.

However, it wasn’t so much his ability to do such things that worried her, she had taken many lives for one reason or another over the past 25 years. What she did worry about was how this power would affect his mind. 

Caithe was no stranger to witnessing the effects of Necromancy and it was a commonly-known fact that dealing with such magic could bring the wielder closer to darkness.

The Necromancer shrugged off Caithe’s behavior and set his sights on the large thorn greatsword that Sariel once wielded. He ripped it from the ground, the dust below scattering into the air.

The grip felt smooth and welcome in his hands, much more so than the branch that he had carried around with him. This would suit him just fine.

Gwyleon strapped the sword to his back with a thick vine, one that would be able to hold the weight of the weapon. 

“I’m ready when you are”.

 

\---

 

The new found power Gwyleon felt was almost intoxicating, he had never felt power like this and definitely didn’t care how it came to him, just that he could use it. 

His mind swirled meticulously over the information he had gathered about the power over the past couple days.

First and foremost, the shroud that covered his body when activated felt entirely like a different being. It strengthened him and was in itself strengthened by the life force that he collected from his fallen victims.

Some life force felt different, it was empowering, but it sent a sickly feeling through his body that he didn’t like very much, however, he wouldn’t complain if it made him stronger. The feeling of power had a way with stifling disgust.

Gwyleon’s legs dangled from a large pale yellow mushroom that he sat on within the Grove, his emerald eyes staring into the distance. 

He felt like he could see everything in the Maguuma Jungle from here and even figured that he’d like to explore the area one day. 

The revelation of power didn’t remove his desire to experience more by any means.

Gwyleon’s mind unconsciously wandered back to his dream, sure, maybe he was wrong to doubt that his encounter with the stag would prove fruitful in some way, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness and impatience.

What exactly was decided for him about his future?

His ear twitched as he felt the magic of the same seed pod mail carrier approach him. 

With his newfound powers, he had also become sensitive to the magic that wafted around him at all times.

The pod gently descended onto his palm and released another small letter akin to the one Caithe sent him before regarding the white stag.

 

‘Valiant Gwyleon,

The Pale Mother has summoned us to the Omphalos Chamber. I hope to see you there soon.

Firstborn Caithe’

 

_‘Well that was awfully brief…’_ he thought gingerly as he tossed the letter off the side of the mushroom. It floated gracefully towards the ground which was far, far below. 

 

\---

 

As per custom, Gwyleon entered the Omphalos Chamber via a seed-pod that lifted him to its heights. 

He silently reminded himself of respect as he opened the prickly seed pod and emerged into the chamber which held the avatar of the Pale Tree. He noticed Caithe standing next to the avatar of the Pale Tree, an impatient expression on her face.

As Gwyleon approached the avatar, a fuzzy warmness spread from his chest all the way to his toes. This was his mother, his caretaker, and something he desired so greatly to protect.

“Ah, Valiant, it is good to see you” the soft, almost divine voice of the Pale Tree rung in his ears like bells and made his heart skip a beat.

“Greetings mother, it is good to see you” he spoke calmly even though he could feel the shroud stir uneasily inside his being. 

“I understand that you summoned me here, is something wrong?” he questioned carefully.

The Pale Tree softly chuckled, “No, young one. I have called you here to explain the importance of your Wyld Hunt”

_ ‘Ah, so I finally get some answers’  _ Gwyleon thought, that same childish, giddy feeling tingling his fingertips.

The Pale Tree’s expression fell slightly “The Elder Dragon Zhaitan is the dragon that controls death and shadow. While you were within the dream, the dragon has launched its attack on the world. The once long lost nation of Orr has been brought back from the depths and Zhaitan now uses the area as fertile grounds to grow his undead army. Time is running thin and the dream has tasked both you and Caithe with bringing down Zhaitan”.

“But mother, don’t you control The Dream? Why do you speak of it as a completely different entity?” He asked.

The Pale Tree giggled “I am but the caretaker of The Dream, I do not control what is shown to you”.

The explanation did answer a few questions that he had in his mind, though, he couldn’t help but wonder about the last vision he saw before he awoke. The painful memory marked his face.

The Pale Tree did not miss the expression, her attention turned to Caithe “Has Trahearne returned yet from Orr?”

Caithe suddenly looked indecisive “Yes mother… But… Is this really the wisest course of action?”

Gwyleon’s face twisted in confusion at the comment, he couldn’t possibly understand why Caithe might not want him to meet Trahearne.

“Of course” the avatar chimed happily “Now is the time”.  
  
  



	4. Harbinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon finally meets Trahearne, though he didn't exactly expect how little his presence meant to the Firstborn.
> 
> A pressing matter is at hand, the Nightmare Court is searching for some kind of Harbinger.

It was later that evening when Gwyleon was summoned to Dreamers Terrace once more, the light from the moon poured in through the gaps in the Pale Trees canopy as night over took the day.

Gwyleon made his way through the Grove, for the first time he noticed that with each step he left on the grass, a blue glowing footprint would appear and slowly dissipate after a moment or two of lingering. It was another addition to the many wonders of the Grove that made it beautiful and wondrous at all times.

During the night, the Grove came alive in different ways. Fireflies would creep out from their daytime retreats, new lights would guide those who traveled along the wooden platforms, and the Sylvari born in the cycle of dusk and night would appear around the bough of the tree to talk to one another.

Gwyleon's bright green eyes could see quite well in the dark. However, others could see him too since his eyes glowed softly when the light was low.

He could almost feel the glow of his sap under his skin as he made his way closer to the terrace. He had heard from many of his species that the glow that a Sylvari emitted would become more visible during stressful situations, and he was no exception.

_Ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump_

Gwyleon stood in front of the doorway that was covered by dark leaves with blue glowing speckles on them. His heartbeat echoed in his ears with each moment that he simply stood there and listened to the muffled voices that were inside.

 _‘Why do I feel so nervous..?’_ he asked himself.

Gwyleon took a deep breath, the cool scents of the Grove filling his lungs would hopefully calm him.

The comment Caithe had made to the Pale Tree earlier had seemingly put him on edge for some reason. For the first time, he felt the itching of his shroud beneath his bark. It must have been responding to his nervousness.

 _‘Does she know something I don’t know?’_ another question he couldn’t answer added to the 'things that were kept secret from him' list.

Gwyleon steadied his breath and his loud heartbeat slowly returned to normal. In a moment of confidence he reach out and pushed away the leaf fonds covering the entrance.

What he saw made him reach deep into his mind for a memory he wanted to forget, but could not. The scene that he witnessed in his dream of a mangled Sylvari man dangling by his wrists was now burning through his mind.

“Trahearne. It is good to see you once more within the Grove.” Caithe smiled “How have your travels been in Orr?”

The sight of the Sylvari man she spoke to made Gwyleon's skin crawl as he remembered the vision.

Trahearne's dark evergreen skin was faded to brown in some places and leafy armour he adorned was even more so. His hair was short like Gwyleon’s, but it was unkempt and also much darker than his own. His torso was covered in strong (but light) bark that made ridges along his abdominal muscles and there was a soft golden glow that shone through the thinner portions of the bark. Gwyleon noticed two thin but long leaves that circled around his neck which protruded from his shoulders. It must have been more of a fashion choice than a protection choice.

His leg armour was that of a light brown and green bark which was covered halfly by leaves that sprouted from his hips and reached down nearly to his knees. Trahearne was mostly barefoot save for a couple vines and leaves that reached upwards from the soles of his feet.

His armour was much lighter than Gwyleon's, he figured that the Firstborn must be a ranged fighter or simply chose to appear this way for whatever reason.

Trahearne, despite being known as a scholar, was actually quite talented in combat, or so Gwyleon had heard. He was definitely much stronger than he let on and was at least a head taller than Caithe.

His eyes held a beautiful golden shine that matched the color of the sap underneath his dark green skin. However, where Gwyleon saw strength and beauty he also saw sadness even as Trahearne smiled at Caithe.

Trahearne set his backpack, which was seemingly full of old, dusty books, onto the oaken table. “It is hard for me to return, each time I do, I feel more and more distant” he admitted, the smile on his face falling.

Trahearne quickly attempted to abandoned the topic of conversation and picked up a paper from the table which read about the recent activities of the Nightmare Court.

“Let the Mother shelter you. It will pass.” Caithe added before noticing that Gwyleon had entered across the room. “Ah, there you are, Valiant, Come. Meet Trahearne, another of the Sylvari Firstborn.”

Gwyleon stared at Trahearne with emerald eyes, he felt like time had slowed down. This was him for sure, his appearance matched that of the Sylvari in his dream that had very nearly been ripped to shreds.

He felt an overwhelming mixture of sadness and something else he could not place lingering in his chest. The feeling was almost enough to make him leave, but he pushed it down as best he could for the sake of not looking foolish.

After all, there were no gashes or marks on Trahearne’s body. The only thing that he could see were various signs of wear from his journey.

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling of uneasiness was latched closely to his heart.

He knew that Trahearne was a legendary Necromancer, the first of his kind, the first of the Firstborn. It was safe to say that Gwyleon admired him deeply even without knowing his face.

The uneasiness that was plaguing him was replaced briefly by a giddy feeling of admiration. Oh, how much he wished to question the Firstborn! What had he seen in Orr? What was it like when he awakened? 

Caithe narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Gwyleon’s odd behavior, but cast it to the side “Only a few Firstborn are called to Wyld Hunts. I have the calling. So does Trahearne. I believe he carries the heaviest burden of us all.”

“I-” Gwyleon started, but Trahearne interrupted him “I am pleased to meet you, but I’m afraid we have no time for proper welcomes, there is a more imminent matter at hand”.

Gwyleon’s ear twitched in dejection.

“It’s the Nightmare Court” Caith continued “Just before you arrived, a messenger brought news of three attacks by the Nightmare Court. I can aid one, Trahearne another…”

“I guess you intend for me to take the third?” Gwyleon guessed.

Caithe ignored the twinge in his voice “They're besieging the Warden outpost of Falias Thorp. Make your way there as quickly as possible, Valiant, and lend a hand.”

Trahearne’s golden stare lifted from the paper and rested on Gwyleon “Before you go, a warning. On my way to the Grove, I heard a rumor that the Nightmare Court are seeking something called the ‘Harbinger’. They are determined to find it, whatever it may be—and based on that alone, we must stop them.”

“You need not worry about me, Firstborn Trahearne” there was a hint of giddiness laden in his words, though Trahearne paid no mind to it.

Gwyleon departed as swiftly as his feet would carry him from Dreamers Terrace.

_‘That was… not what I expected’_

In his brief exchange of conversation with Trahearne, he felt like he didn’t exist. It was like the Firstborn didn’t even want him there.

He had dreamed of the Firstborn just before we awakened to the world, surely they were meant to be friends if he felt so strongly during the vision he had.

However, until Gwyleon could learn more, he’d have to take care of the problem at hand first.

He figured that he would have no issues taking care of it.

\---

He read about Falias Thorp before, it was a quaint little village/guardpost combination that was established just outside of Wychmire Swamp in Caledon Forest. They’ve had their share of fighting with the various swamp creatures, and their soldiers were relatively good at fighting.

When he reached the outpost, he was greeted by the swollen flames of siege. Nightmare Courtiers were bombarding the camp from the swampland, the corpses of the Sylvari guards littered the ground.

Gwyleon readied himself as a male Sylvari approached him. His face was… Oddly shaped to say the least. His periwinkle skin was etched with small cuts and burns likely from fighting the Nightmare Court. There were two whisker-like appendages that stuck out from his eyebrows which gave him an otherworldly look even for a Sylvari. His eyes were bright blue and he was clad in a brown leather trench coat. A sharp dagger was wielded in his left hand and a pistol in the other.

“Who are you? Are you another of these murderers?!” the Sylvari demanded angrily.

“Calm down, I'm a friend. Who are you, and what's going on?”

The Sylvari narrowed his blue eyes cautiously “My name is Malyck. The Wardens took me in. They found me, injured, in the forest. I was here when the outpost was attacked. The Wardens said these creatures are called the ‘Nightmare Court’.” Malyck gestured behind him “They've set fire to the camp, and cut down everything in their path. We're outnumbered, besieged, and most of the guard has been killed or captured. I'm all that's left of the defense.”

Gwyleon's eyes traveled over the destruction, several Wardens lay dead on the ground and the huts that had been built were burning brightly. The smell of smoke burned his nose with every breath.

The decision to help was quickly made for him when a scream echoed from the camp “Let me fight with you, Malyck. I know the Nightmare Court, and I'd be happy to raise arms against them.”

Malyck was definitely cautious, but he didn’t have much ground to stand on, especially since the outpost was burning to the ground.

“I'll have to trust you—I've no other choice. But I warn you, the Wardens are under my protection, and I will let no harm fall on them.”

 _‘What wardens? There are none left’_ he thought bitterly.

The sound of Nightmare Courtiers charging towards him and his partner made him unsheathe the thorn greatsword and prepare for battle. Both hands wrapped tightly around the smooth but sturdy bark that made up the handle of the weapon.

Gwyleon found himself easily cleaving through the Nightmare Courtiers with his greatsword, each bit of life force was drained from their bodies and was used to strengthen his shroud.

Even though he had the power to release the shroud, he figured it’d be best not to right now since it would likely scare Malyck into not trusting him. Still, he made quick work of draining each enemy of their life force when they died just in case.

Once the fires in the outpost had been thoroughly drenched in water, a few survivors were found beneath the ashes. Malyck was relieved to see them alive even if they were slightly charred.

Malyck turned to Gwyleon once the wardens were sent back to the Grove “You fight well, stranger. I'm grateful you came along. I hope you'll forgive my initial mistrust.”

Gwyleon rested his blade on his wooden pauldron “That’s alright, I’m sure that you were distressed from the attack” there was a pause as Gwyleon remembered what Trahearne had said to him in Dreamers Terrace

“Hey, by any chance, do you know why the Nightmare Court was here in the first place?”

Malyck’s expression fell considerably “I do. It seems that they wanted me. I don't know why. I've never met their kind before and I'm certainly no friend to them.They kept calling me the "Harbinger." When I resisted, the courtiers took hostages. They threatened to harm them if I didn't give myself up. I was willing, but Captain Banya refused to allow it. "I'm a civilian," she said, "and they were Wardens." I told her she was a fool, and now...she's gone, too.”

This was the Harbinger? This odd-looking Sylvari?

For the life of him, Gwyleon couldn’t tell why they’d want Malyck.

“Well, either way, I can promise that whatever the Nightmare Court has planned for you - it isn’t pleasant. Why don’t you come back to the Grove with me, you’ll be safe there”

“The Grove?” Confusion knitted Malyck’s brows “ Is that where your people come from?”

“Did you get hit on the head or something? Don’t you know the Grove?” Gwyleon questioned impatiently.

“No, I do not come from these lands.. I appreciate your offer but I will not abandon the Wardens… I'll go with you after they're safe, and the Nightmare Court's been punished. The courtiers said they were going to Joy's End, a Nightmare Court camp nearby” Malyck quickly cut in, he obviously wasn’t answering any more questions right now.

Gwyleon gave an exasperated huff “Joys End huh? Sounds Lovely. I’ll meet you there then”

\---

It didn’t take long for Gwyleon and Malyck to execute of the Nightmare Courtiers at Joy’s End. The splatters of sylvari sap covered the ground when they were finished.

The courtiers felt relatively weak since the dramatic power shift Gwyleon experienced. Had he tried to assault them when he was still using his staff, he would have certainly not returned in one piece.

Gwyleon did get a chance to question Malyck a little about his origins. For some reason, the Sylvari wasn’t able to remember anything about the Grove, his awakening, or The Dream.

Perhaps the Nightmare Court had poisoned his memories somehow.

While they were at Joy’s End there was one particular officer that grabbed Gwyleon’s attention, a Sylvari with pale white skin called the ‘Knight of Embers’ who was raving about her ‘Dark Hunt’ and again with the ‘Harbinger’.

Not only had the Nightmare Court twisted their vision of The Dream into something malicious, they even created some sinister purpose for themselves in the form of a ‘Dark Hunt’.

Gwyleon couldn’t help snicker at how desperately the Nightmare Court still clung to the fabric of Sylvari culture despite acting as if they rejected it in full.

The Knight of Embers had left the camp before the two Sylvari began their assault to rescue the remaining wardens. It was easy to trick her into thinking that Malyck and himself were courtiers just by stealing some armour.

Much to Malyck’s pleasure, the remaining wardens were rescued and returned to the Grove for much needed rest.

Afterwards, Malyck had finally agreed to travel to the Grove and undergo some serious questioning.

A small part of Gwyleon couldn’t help but wonder if Trahearne would be pleased and maybe give him some kind of praise for bringing back this so called Harbinger.

Perhaps Gwyleon was a little _too_ desperate for approval.

When Gwyleon entered Dreamers Terrace with Malyck, he immediately felt the burning gaze of both Firstborn resting squarely on him.

“Caithe, Trahearne, this is Malyck. The Nightmare Court believe he is the Harbinger - of what, we don't know. But they attacked those Warden camps to find him.”

Caithe’s brows furrowed in curiosity as she examined Malyck “Malyck is your name? You feel...oddly quiet. Strangely still.”

“When did you awaken at the Pale Tree? In what cycle? What did you Dream?” Trahearne was equally as interested, albeit, Gwyleon sensed he tried to hide it as best he could.

Malyck scoffed “Tree? I know no Pale Tree. I have had no Dream. My first memory begins two weeks ago. I was lying by a river, staring up at an arched bridge. I was injured, and I wandered the forest from there, following the river until the Wardens found me and took me in.”

Trahearne’s hand rested on his chin in thought “No Dream? Perhaps you have only forgotten it. If you were badly injured, your memories could be damaged or lost... Perhaps if we look into the Dream itself, we could find them. I know a Sylvari seer named Amaranda who can help us look into the dream for the information we seek.”

 _‘Why not just take him to the Pale Tree herself?’_ Gwyleon thought.

“Or we could follow the river and locate the place Malyck describes. Maybe we'll meet someone who knows him and memory will return on its own” Caithe added.

Impatience, Gwyleon found, was a feeling he was becoming very acquainted with.

Malyck broke the chatter between the two Firstborn with a commanding voice “I must know who I am to fight the Nightmare Court.” He turned to Gwyleon “Gwyleon, I trust you. Which do you think is the best method to find the truth.”

_‘About time someone notices I'm here…’_

“Chances are that it’d be a better idea to look through The Dream itself, I really don’t think it would be wise to put faith in the idea that your memories will suddenly return upon seeing the river, it’s too risky.”

“Nothing is certain, Valiant. Remember, if you choose to go with me, you cannot change your mind” Trahearne spoke levelly.

“Yes… I understand and I am sure, thanks for the reminder though” Gwyleon insisted.

Caithe shrugged and began making her way towards the exit of the Terrace “While the three of you speak with the seer, I will search for the site of Malyck's first memory.”

As Caithe disappeared, Malyck seemed to be taking his own liberty of exploring the other levels of Dreamers Terrace far out of earshot.

Trahearne watched intently as Caithe departed from the terrace before turning his attention to Gwyleon “Valiant, Caithe spoke to me about your infiltration of Joy’s End. While I commend you for saving the wardens, that was very reckless.”

Gwyleon felt his heart sink a little “I am no newly-sprouted flower, Firstborn, I can handle myself. The Courtiers were no match for me and I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t think I could handle the matter.”

“Yes, it would seem so” Trahearne matched Gwyleon’s vexation with an even tone.

“Tch..” Gwyleon grit his teeth, the passiveness in Trahearne emanated bothered him even more than if the Firstborn had continued to defend his point.

“Just remember to keep your mind about you” Trahearne added.

“ _Yes, I am well aware of that._ Thanks for reminding me…”

With that, he trudged out of Dreamers Terrace and out into the Grove.

Funny, he figured, how the only recognition from Trahearne that he received was reprimandation and warnings about things he didn’t need to worry about.

Why did he care so much about Gwyleon fighting the Nightmare Court anyways? His sword ran through them like a hot knife on butter. After all, Trahearne was a Necromancer just like him, couldn’t he understand just what kind of power he wielded and just how badly Gwyleon wanted to prove himself?

Gwyleon silently wondered if the vision he saw about Trahearne was even meant for him in the first place.

\---

The next day Gwyleon had planned to meet Trahearne and Malyck at Zinder Slope Camp in the Brisban Wildlands which was West of Caledon Forest.

Gwyleon figured that he would put the disagreement that he had with Trahearne behind him if it meant Malyck was able to retrieve his memories again.

Malyck trusted him, unlike Trahearne.

“Look! It’s Trahearne, one of the Firstborn. I’ve never met him.” A bright green female Sylvaris’ voice rung out at the Zinder Slope camp.

“He spends all his time in Orr from what I’ve heard… Don’t you think that’s strange?” another pale-blue female Sylvari questioned her companion.

Gwyleon’s face was contorted in a mixture of disgust and amusement as the green Sylvari rushed up to where Trahearne was standing.

“Oh my, you’re really him! Trahearne!” She squeaked.

Trahearne’s confused expression made Gwyleon chuckle.

“Um… Yes, I suppose I am. Hello” he greeted awkwardly.

Another squeal came from the Sylvari female as she ran back to her friend excitedly. Trahearne rubbed the back of his head in confusion.

“Ooh! That was Trahearne! I dreamed I’d meet him!”

A Sylvari warden made Gwyleon jump in surprise as he stood unnoticed until now “Well that was odd, What was that about?”

“No clue” Gwyleon shrugged quickly as he walked past the scene to meet up with Trahearne and Malyck, the Sylvari women had trotted off back to the camp in a flurry of giggles.

Trahearne noticed Gwyleon before Malyck did “Ah, Valiant, you’re here”.

“Yeah, it seems you were having fun with the locals fawning over you” he snickered deviously.

“I know nothing of which you speak” the Firstborn responded calmly “Come, let’s collect Malyck and make haste”.

The three Sylvari were halfway up the hill that led to Amaranda’s house when Trahearne slowed his pace “Be careful, I sense danger”.

Gwyleon didn't respond, he figured that Trahearne would see a pebble as a potential danger.

They continued up the hill when out of the corner of his eye, Gwyleon spotted a Skritt. The Skritt were a race of rat like creatures that were known for deception and light fingers. They would steal anything they thought was shiny.

This skritt was brown and ragged, its fur bristled and caked with fresh blood. What could have done this?

The Skritt suddenly yelped “Help! Somebody help! Oh, my ears and whiskers, Ow! Pain! Ow!”

“This Skritt is in trouble, we must lend them aid” Trahearne urged as he approached the Skritt.

“What is this, your pet?" Malyck was confused "Why should we waste time here?"

Gwyleon internally agreed, although he was silent.

Trahearne's voice was calm “All life is sacred, Malyck. Come, let’s see what happened”

_‘So much for making haste…’_

Gwyleon watched as Trahearne patched up the Skritt with some bandage that he kept in his knapsack, his ears faced forwards in curiosity. He was genuinely astonished that a Necromancer would be so gentle with a creature that he shouldn’t care about. 

He didn’t understand why Trahearne would waste his time like this, especially when there was the threat of the Nightmare Court lurking nearby.

Impatience prickled at his fingertips and the dark magic under his skin started getting restless.

After Trahearne sent the patched-up Skritt on its way, the party continued to the crest of the hill. A half-burnt house that was alight with bright orange fire came into view. A group of Nightmare Courtiers had surrounded a Sylvari female who was cowering in fear. When the Sylvari spotted the party, her eyes washed with relief.

“Help! Intruders! Help!”

The party sprinted up the hill, their weapons unsheathed and ready to meet resistance as they approached the courtiers. Gwyleon’s greatsword was gripped strongly in his hands as he cut down 3 courtiers in a single swing of his blade.

Momentarily distracted, Gwyleon noticed Trahearne was wielding a scepter and dagger combination which with every swing would cause his enemies to bleed onto the ground and wither away.

Perhaps, he thought, Trahearne was a force to be reckoned with if he really wanted to be. Even though Trahearne was fighting, Gwyleon sensed that he was holding something back.

Additionally, he did not see Trahearne use his shroud. However, his increased sensitivity to magic told him Firstborn was hiding some kind of extremely powerful magic behind each swing of his scepter.

In this moment of distraction, Gwyleon felt a whip wrap around his ankle and drag him to the ground. He jerked his head around to see a courtier with a smug grin waiting to fight.

He gripped onto his sword handle tightly “You’ll regret that."

Gwyleon growled as he sliced through the vine with his sword and erected himself once more.

He channeled some dark energy into his blade and cast it forwards towards the courtier. As he commanded, a large black claw sliced its way through the ground and wrapped its talons around the courtier, dragging him towards Gwyleon who then dispatched the sod with a swing of his blade.

Gwyleon siphoned the life force from the dying courtier with a flick of his wrist and shortly after the body fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.

His weapon raised once more when another courtier approach the group. He could tell that this was definitely someone of mild importance by the confident way in which she carried herself. The female courtier surveyed the damage with a grin plastered on her face.

“Seems that my mistress, the Knight of Embers, was right! She knew you'd bring the Harbinger to this false seer. So thank you, you've done most of my work for me!” she snickered.

“Maybe I should reward you the privilege of knowing my name, I’m Meinir of the Beasts, and I’ve come for the Harbinger if you haven’t figured that part out already.”

Trahearne flashed a defiant yellow gaze at the pale gray courtier “If you've hurt Amaranda, you will find that the wrath of a firstborn is something to fear!”

“Aww, are you going to hit me with a book?” She taunted “You're not Caithe, you're not even one of the Wardens. What are you, Trahearne? A useless scholar studying a dead land?” Meinir laughed maniacally.

A part of Gwyleon wanted to laugh at the book comment and the other half wanted to beat her head in with the hilt of his sword.

The thought that Trahearne’s Wyld Hunt could potentially feel so futile hadn’t crossed his mind. He hadn't thought of how much time Trahearne must have spent trying to complete his Wyld Hunt but with no signs of hope on the horizon.

“And what are you but Nightmare's pawn? Watch where you're setting fires, or your own house may burn.” Gwyleon retorted, much to Trahearne's surprise.

“Enough, the Harbinger is coming with me regardless of your desires.”

Meinir unsheathing a thorny whip and a sword in response to Gwyleon’s challenge. With a brisk movement she unraveled the whip and aimed its thorny tendril at Gwyleon’s ankle.

He had no intention of falling for that trick again. As the whip flew at him, Gwyleon sliced his sword through the air and cut cleanly through the planty material, rendering the whip useless.

“Gah!” Meinir tossed the broken whip to the side and instead rushed at Gwyleon with sword in hand.

Gwyleon was ready for her attack, before Meinir could land a hit on him he sidestepped her. With a swift movement he drew his sword back and stabbed it deep into her torso, ending her life with nothing but a grotesque gurgling noise.

“How could you! You didn’t even let me get one hit in?” Malyck feigned anger.

Gwyleon chuckled, but the feeling of momentary triumph was squashed when Trahearne ran over to Amaranda to survey her light wounds.

He felt a twinge of… Something in his chest, it was an unpleasant feeling, one he didn’t want to have and couldn’t name. He crushed it down and returned his attention to the matter at hand.

After a brief conversation, the party learned that Malyck was not born of the Pale Tree, but of a different tree that lingers within the Maguuma Jungle. One that does not know of The Dream, but it only made half-sense sense now as to why the Nightmare Court was after Malyck this whole time.

“My fears are well founded. You were not born of the Pale Tree, Malyck. We cannot see your Dream; you cannot see ours. I must return to the Grove and speak to the Pale Tree.” Trahearne announced.

Gwyleon felt a mixture of relief that Malyck had learned a bit about his past and suspicion that there was information Trahearne was keeping from them. Did the Firstborn still not trust him?

Anger curtled in the pit of his stomach at the thought that Trahearne may be keeping important information to himself.

“Now I, too, understand. When the grand duchess hears this, she will send the whole court after you, Harbinger! She will never stop! Not even when the Grove itself is bathed in blood!” the malevolent laughter of the Knight of Embers cut the air like a blade and interrupted the conversation.

Before Gwyleon could ready his blade, she disappeared in a wisp of flame and was nowhere to be seen.

“Thorns!” he cursed loudly.

“Well” Malyck began “Whatever you’ve discovered, Trahearne, The Nightmare Court also knows”.

“Only the Knight of Embers. If we stop her before she reaches the grand duchess, we can keep this information from the court. We must track her down and silence her”.

\---

Tracking the Knight of Embers was easy considering all they did was follow the smell of burning wood. The party was led straight to a Nightmare Court camp which, was heavily guarded by many courtiers.

Gwyleon didn't mind the challenge though.

“This is the place. The Knight of Embers will be waiting to meet the grand duchess. If she is allowed to tell Faolain the truth, the results will be disastrous” Trahearne explained.

Ah, yes, that was the name of the other dusk Firstborn, Faolain, the duchess of the Nightmare Court itself. He couldn’t recall why he struggled to remember the name, but it didn’t particularly matter right now.

His attention was focused on counting out the number of guards in the camp when Malyck's deep, angry voice made him jump.

“Why, Trahearne? What aren't you telling us? This is my life! I deserve to know the truth!”

Trahearne breathed a resigned sigh “You're right, but yours isn't the only life in danger. I'll tell you the truth, and then, you must make a choice…” He paused.

“My research has led me to believe that the Pale Tree is not a unique creature. Legends say her seed is one of many, found in a cave. That cave has never been found, but it seems at least one of those other seeds was planted. It sprouted the tree which bore you, Malyck.”

“By the Pale Tree, that means there could be other Groves!” Gwyleon exclaimed. “But… If Faolain finds out, she won't need the Grove. The court will burn the Pale Tree to the ground and find one they can more easily twist to nightmare.”

“Yes, that is correct.” Trahearne confirmed.

Malyck breathed, the anger leaving him “I won’t let that happen, if I must die to keep this secret than so be it”

“Sounds like the Knight of Embers must die then” Gwyleon smiled.

“I have a plan” Malyck began with newfound determination “I kept the disguises from Joy's End. Dress up, act like you're escorting me, and we'll get past the guards. Once we’re past we can silence the Knight of Embers.”

It was a sound plan, not one that Gwyleon would argue with. However, if it were him on the other side, he would be pretty suspicious of the outfit trick by now. Nonetheless, he outfitted himself in Nightmare Court armour once more and prepared to infiltrate the camp.

“All right, stick by me and we should have no problem getting in” Gwyleon whispered to Trahearne and Malyck as he approached the guard,

“Halt! I haven’t seen you two courtiers before, what do you want?” the guard asked haughtily.

“Get out of my way you sniveling twig, I have important news about the Harbinger to report to the Knight of Embers! If you don’t get out of my way I’ll be sure to let her know you stalled the one who was delivering the Harbinger to her” Gwyleon’s commanding tone was icy and unwavering as the threat left his mouth.

“R-Really? Then I guess the Knight of Embers will be waiting for you, be on your way” the guard resigned.

This camp was definitely the most guarded they had seen recently, Thorny vines had been shaped meticulously near the borders of the camp to ward off intruders. Gwyleon could see grotesque nightmare hounds salivating over pieces of meat in their bramble cages. He hated to think that a Sylvari would really willingly give up The Dream for this mess of a lifestyle.

For some reason he could feel Trahearne's golden eyes on the back of his head.

At the back-end of the camp, there were many prisoners that the Nightmare Court had acquired. Gwyleon eyed several skritt and a couple wardens who had been captured from various outposts in the area.

Trahearne whispered in a hushed voice “Those prisoners at the back of the camp would serve as a good distraction. We should free them.

“Good call” Gwyleon agreed.

Releasing the latch on the bramble cages was easy for a Necromancers like himself and Trahearne who could freeze it with magic. With a soft aching sound the lock broke and released a warden who thanked Gwyleon with a nod of approval.

Soon what was one warden escapee was many wardens accompanied by some _very_ angry Skritt. The sound of swords clanging and yells of triumph soon filled the clearing.

Gwyleon and Trahearne shed their disguises once the Knight of Embers descended into the clearing to observer why there was so much noise in her camp.

“An ambush is the best you can offer? How sad” she scowled when she noticed the three Sylvari below.

Her blazing red gaze turned to Malyck “You're already a creature of nightmare, Harbinger. Why fight us?”

Malyck unsheathed his dagger and pistol “You’re a liar! And soon, you’ll be a dead liar!”

“Tch… Impudent whelp. I'll show you why the call me the Knight of Embers. Soira, Lania—to me!” From a bramble covering above the clearing, two Sylvari women jumped down and stood in front of the Knight of Embers who retreated a couple feet away just before trapping the party in a circle of blazing fire.

“Thorns…” Gwyleon hissed, he knew he might have a hard time with these two if the Knight of Embers was just going to be a coward and throw fireballs from the safety of outside the ring of fire.

Gwyleon figured he would start off with Lania who drew her bow and aimed a poison-laced arrow for Malyck.

With a swift movement, Gwyleon thrust his sword in the direction of the Ranger. A long shadowy claw gripped her by her life force and pulled her towards him where he was waiting to strike her down.

“Aah!” Lania shouted and blocked the swing of Gwyleon’s sword with her bow which cracked at the strength of the attack.

Lania was knocked backwards and fell to the ground, her bow splintered as it landed.

Just out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Trahearne combatting Soria, another Necromancer. Malyck was dodging the bolts of fire that the Knight of Embers was throwing at him while trying his best to return the favor in the form of bullets from his pistol.

Gwyleon turned his attention back to Lania who was attempting to crawl towards her splintered bow. “Oh no you don’t” he growled as he tore his sword down her spine and ended her life with a muffled scream.

“Lania! You killed her! My vengeance will make an inferno feel pale and weak!” the Knight of Embers called furiously.

“Watch out for the Necromancer!” Trahearne shouted “Don’t let her summon a horde!”

Gwyleon whipped around to face the Necromancer, but from behind him, a searing ball of fire flew through the air towards his back from the Knight of Embers.

He bit back a cry of agony as the ball of flame collided with him and burnt through his back armour, the embers and pieces of bark fell to the ground at his feet.

“Gwyleon!” Malyck yelled.

Pain coursed through Gwyleon’s spine and he stumbled slightly. Soira saw him stagger and aimed her scepter towards him to siphon away his life force.

Before she could do so, Trahearne waved his scepter in the air and brought down a garish pillar of magic onto the Necromancer, forcing her to flee in fear.

Malyck took his chance to finish off the Necromancer with a bullet to her skull. There was an eerie silence before she fell over with a muffled thud in a puddle of her own sap.

“Soira! My beloved squire! You fools. May nightmare take your souls!”

The Knight of Embers waved away the fire near the edge of the circle and unsheathed her weapons in preparation to fight her losing battle.

Gwyleon felt breathless as the darkness of his shroud leaked from his bark and enveloped his body without being told to. He felt the familiar shrouded scythe form in his hands. His mind felt cloudy as his green eerie eyelights stared at the Knight of Embers.

In a flash of icy darkness, Gwyleon spun his scythe and launched himself at the Knight of Embers who blocked the blow with her shield. Nervous sweat fell from her forehead and dropped onto the ground as she fought to repel Gwyleon’s attack, the ear-splitting grinding sound filled the clearing.

Trahearne drew dark energy into his scepter and cast it towards the ground at the Knight’s feet. With a rumble, two undead hands erected from the ground and grasped the ankles of the Sylvari female who yelped in surprise.

Gwyleon's shade reacted and prepared for a final attack, utilizing his shadow magic, he lifted himself into the air and brought the scythe blade down on top of the Knight with an explosion of dark icy magic.

The Knight of Embers shattered into small icy pieces which slowly began to melt into the ground.

Slowly the shroud around his body dissipated, Gwyleon felt his mind become whole again.

 

Gwyleon breathed out a huff of cold air as he stared at his hands. His shroud had become agitated when he was hit with the fireball, there was no mistaking it. What concerned him was that the shroud activated when he did not command it to do so.

 _'I must be more careful'_ he told himself _'Hopefully, Trahearne didn't notice'_

Silence washed over the clearing, the escapees were likely back at the neighboring friendly camp by now. There were no sounds of fighting any longer.

The silence was broken when Caithe appeared in the clearing from beneath a cloak of shadow “There you are! The Pale Tree told me where to find you. I have to tell you, Malyck's tree…”

“We know” Trahearne cut in “The Nightmare Court nearly found out as well. It is for the best that the Knight of Embers is dead.”

Malyck stared at Gwyleon, concern etched on his face “Still, this is only the beginning. Even if they don't know the reason, the court will keep searching for their ‘Harbinger’. If I stay here, others will try to convert me to nightmare. They'll discover my secret.”

Gwyleon approached Malyck, and much to his surprise the periwinkle-toned Sylvari didn’t seem afraid. If anything his expression was a mixture of sadness and curiosity.

Malyck smiled at Gwyleon “Somewhere to the West, at the source of that river, there's another tree. Maybe even another city, with more Sylvari like me. My family. I'm going to find them. When I do, I'll tell them about the Grove, and I'll return with an army to help fight the dragons.”

Gwyleon felt a tug at his heart, perhaps this was the feeling of sadness.

He knew that Malyck would likely have to depart after what he had learned, but he had grown slightly fond of the odd periwinkle-toned Sylvari.

“I wish I could go with you, Malyck.” Gwyleon admitted "but my place is here.. I do with you the best on your journey to find your people."

“Don’t worry, we will meet again.” Malyck assured before he took his leave from the camp.

_‘I hope so'_


	5. A Lesson in Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon has an important realization that not everyone should be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, this chapter took me awhile. I've been having some trouble really pinning down Gwyleon's personality considering the dialogue from the story is kind of bland. I feel that he needed some more development before joining his order. Enjoy!

A couple days had come and gone since Malyck’s departure. Gwyleon couldn’t help but feel a lingering emptiness when he was alone with his thoughts. 

He had made a habit of hanging around Kraitbane Haven, a surprisingly fortified outpost in North-East Caledon Forest. His favorite spot was on top of a watchtower that overlooked Quetzal Bay which ran along the massive wall to the East which shielded the Dominion of Winds.

Gwyleon had picked up some interesting information while he spent his time at the outpost. It was not uncommon to hear lingering conversations between the Sylvari stationed there and the Lionguard about various threats in the area.

He had learned quite a bit about the species of flightless bird-like humanoids called the Quetzal that greedily protected their giant wall. He didn’t know why the birds were so sour to outsiders, but he wouldn’t question it considering they were at least a foot taller than him and wielded long, sharp talons. It wasn’t that he was afraid, he just wasn’t a fool.

The nearby Krait, a race of menacing snake-like water dwelling creatures, were also a notable threat. Gwyleon had seen Krait before, they were positively disgusting in both appearance and demeanor. They preferred to capture those who crossed their paths and slowly torture them beneath the waves in which they lived.

The last threat was the most potent of them all. The risen minions of Zhaitan had infiltrated the Caledon’s Eastern borders.

Gwyleon did not fear the risen either, but he heard stories of other races falling to Zhaitan’s corruption and becoming mindless members of the walking dead. Luckily, because of the Pale Tree’s protection, Sylvari were immune to the curse of undeath. 

They were the key to winning this war.

“Aww but Tegwen!” a pouting voice reached his ears and his eyes followed the sound.

Two female Sylvari were walking along the beach. The first of the two pouted in a most childish manner. Her skin was pale brown and the dark blue leaves of her hair were wrapped tightly in the form of a ponytail with a vine. She wore green plated armour and a large Sylvari-crafted hammer. 

The other Sylvari, Tegwen, was a light pear-toned green, the her hair dangled onto her shoulders in leafy curls. Gwyleon could see a wooden scepter with a white sparkling crystal strapped to her dull purple and green robes.

“Enough, Carys. Trahearne said that we are to stay here to protect the haven, no artifact is worth what would happen to the haven if we were missing” a more evenly-toned voice responded.

Gwyleon’s ears faced them curiously.

Carys crossed her arms indignantly “B-but I remember seeing Orrian markings on the artifact! What if it’s something important?”

Gwyleon’s interest was definitely captured now. An Orrian artifact? This would be very interesting.

“Hey!” he called to the pair before nimbly descending from the tower. “I know Trahearne, perhaps you’d like me to retrieve the artifact for you?” he questioned.

Tegwen examined Gwyleon with an uncertain expression.

“Oh would you?!” Carys beamed.

_ ‘She’s a little too trusting… I haven’t even stated my name yet..’ _

“My name is Gwyleon, I’m a Wyld Hunt Valiant of the Grove” he introduced himself with a bow.

“Gwyleon?” Tegwen scratched her head “Oh! Yes, I recall hearing your name before. You wiped out some courtiers at Joy’s End.”

_ ‘Finally, some kind of recognition.’ _

“Indeed I did” Gwyleon smiled confidently. “I am surprised that news spread so quickly.”

Tegwen nodded “We patrol this fort diligently. Information passes through here at an alarming rate sometimes, but I digress. My name is Tegwen, I was under Trahearne’s guidance for a long time. I learned much from him and respect him greatly” She replied with a smile.

Carys clapped happily “See Tegwen? This Valiant can get the artifact I saw!”

“Perhaps, but it’s likely that the Krait have taken the artifact by now and taken it to their home. It would be incredibly dangerous to try and collect it now”

“I wouldn’t worry. I’ll get the artifact without a problem” Gwyleon interjected.

Tegwen smiled “Do be careful, I’d really like to inspect the artifact after you retrieve it.”

“Of course” he replied.

Gwyleon was not exactly the best swimmer as far as Sylvari standards go. If it weren’t for his aquabreather which allowed him to breathe underwater, he would be far worse.

The Krait structure was a poorly put together mess of slimy pieces of wood that jutted out of the bay and into the air. There were almost as many Krait in the surrounding waters as there were splinters on the wooden planks. 

As he approached the Krait structure, he couldn’t help but hear a distant splashing noise coming from the beach. The lingering feeling that someone had followed him dug itself into his mind.

_ ‘I can handle myself’ _ he reminded.

The Krait structure also was crawling with well… Krait. He would have to be immediately ready for battle once he hoisted himself onto the floating wooden planks or otherwise become lamia food. He had his sword drawn as he lifted himself from the water. Three angry hissing serpents were on top of him almost immediately, but even drenched in water he was able to cut them down.

The structure actually reached quite high into the sky. Narrow planks that looked much easier to slither on than walk on ascended all the way to the top where he figured the most important things would be kept.

Gwyleon’s shroud tingled defensively under his skin. He had not yet gained full control of the shadows. Fortunately, there weren’t any allies around that he had to worry about accidentally injuring in his stupor if it did overtake him.

As he began his ascension to the top of the tower, he felt it creak in agony at an additional weight towards the bottom. His heart dropped as his foot slipped on the plank that he was balancing on.

“Ah!” he gasped as he began falling towards the Krait-infested water.

His eyes were tightly shut, but the splash of water never came. He cracked opened his eyes and saw none other than Nymeli holding onto his wrist.

“You dumb fern!” she chided “What do you think you’re doing?”

Gwyleon blinked in surprise as he was easily hoisted back up onto the platform by the blue-toned Sylvari.

Gwyleon rubbed his wrist and stared disbelievingly at Nymeli. “By the Pale Tree, Nymeli, I could ask you the same!”

She crossed her arms, her eyes shone with defiance “Saving your plant rear, that’s what.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little too dangerous for you to be here?” He said. He wasn’t nervous about the Krait, but more so about his ability to control himself.

“Pff” she scoffed “These lizard fiends are no match for me. Either way, I had overheard your conversation about the artifact with those two wardens at Kraitwatch Haven. I figured you might need my help considering you can’t even keep your balance.”

Gwyleon’s cheeks burnt with a hot green fire “Last time I checked, I had to save you from the nightmare beast in The Dream. Don’t you go talking to me about help.”

Nymeli smirked “I’m just as strong as you, ya’ know. I didn’t have a profession when I was in The Dream, but I’ve found my true calling in the form of Necromancy. Now nothing stands in my way.”

“Following in the footprints of your superior, eh?” Gwyleon grinned mockingly.

“No!” Nymeli replied indignantly, the white freckles on her cheeks shining brightly “Don’t go thinking you’re so high and mighty. I’m coming whether you like it or not.”

Gwyleon’s hands rubbed downwards on his face and lifted himself to his feet. “Fine, but don’t get in my way, I have something important to do.”

The two Sylvari made quick work of the remaining Krait at the top of the tower. Gwyleon noticed that Nymeli was attacking with an axe and a dagger while a staff was strapped tightly to her back with vines. She was quick in her attacks, much faster than Gwyleon thought she’d be. Her acute use of Necromantic magic made his shroud burn under his skin.

At last the pair reached the top of the structure. There were quite a few cages that held several Skritt, a warden, and even an Asura.

“Hey! You! Yes you, fern!” the Asura shouted at Gwyleon from her cage.

“Tch” Nymeli snorted “Rude creatures, Asura are. They don’t know when to close their little mouths.”

The acid in Nymeli’s tone surprised Gwyleon a bit, but he did not reply. 

His eyes searched for the artifact among the other shiny junk the Krait had collected. Finally, he found a beautiful mirror etched with Orrian designs on the frame. The mirror was blurry and did not show him his reflection, but when he narrowed his eyes he could almost see something in the glass.

“Hey!” the Asura shouted, shattering Gwyleon’s concentration.

“Celery stalk! Can you get me out of this cage? It's been really great waiting to be a Krait-snack, but my toes are shriveling, and I'd like to go home.”

Gwyleon pulled the mirror from the heap of junk and walked over to the cage containing the loose-lipped rat. “What’s your name, choose your words carefully, and I just might let you out.”

“Okay okay! Jeez… My name is Larra. If you can find the jailer and take his keys, I’d be very grateful.”

“That’s more like it” Gwyleon smiled “As for the keys, I have no need of them.”

With a wave of his hand, a dark icy aura covered the lock and shattered it into pieces. The door to the cage creaked open in submission. Nymeli had taken charge of opening the other cages.

“I hate cages almost as much as I hate logic problems. Thanks” Larra bowed.

“I’d love to revel in the glory, but we need to leave. We got what we came for” Gwyleon said as he held the mirror under his arm..

Gwyleon, Nymeli, and Larra returned to Kraitbane Haven swiftly with the Orrian mirror. Carys and Tegwen were waiting at the beach patiently.

“You’ve returned with the artifact!” Carys cheered “And with friends!”

_ ‘Yeah… friends..’ _ he rolled his eyes.

“It's magnificent!” Tegwen marveled at the ornate mirror. Her eyes squinted slightly as she stared closely at it. “Look at the detailing on the silver frame!” She went on. Suddenly, her face contorted in confusion “There's... something moving inside the mirror, behind the… I… I can't quite see… It looks like… why, that landscape...it looks like Orr!” she breathed.

Gwyleon was about to inspect the mirror himself when a dark shadowy arm ripped itself from the surface of the mirror and wrapped its claws around Tegwen’s body.

“Aah!” Tegwen shouted as she disappeared into the glass surface of the mirror.

“By the Pale Tree!” Gwyleon shouted in surprise.

“Whoa..” Nymeli’s eyes widened.

“What happened? Where did Tegwen go? Oh, brambles! Did the Krait take her again? Valiant—help!” Carys fell to her knees and put her hands on the mirror frame desperately.

Gwyleon remained silent.

“The Krait are nowhere near us, you yammering salad” Larra replied for him. “That mirror must be cursed. Tegwen looked into it and vanished.”

“This… This is bad” Gwyleon murmured. He could already feel how angry Trahearne would be with him if he let his little devotee get sucked into Orr.

“We have to take it to Trahearne. He's studied Orr since the early days of the Sylvari. He'll know how to help Tegwen!” Carys cried.

_ ‘Yeah, how about no….’ _

“Pfft” Larra scoffed “I was studying forced material transference long before that walking fern fell off the tree! Come to my lab, instead. I'll locate your missing green bean and have her back here in no time.”

Gwyleon didn’t even let Carys speak, he had already decided “We’ll go with Larra and see what we can do about the mirror. Trahearne doesn’t need to know about this.”

Nymeli crossed her arms “Why not? You scared of something Gwy?” she sneered.

“No!” he retorted harshly “I think this is the best course of action, that’s all”

“You made the right choice. This dim-light and I will meet you two at my lab.” Larra gestured to Carys.

_ ‘I do hope so…’ _

 

\---

 

Anxiety prickled at Gwyleon’s fingertips as he approached the lab that was housed in Brisban Wildlands. His bright green sap glowed brightly under his skin.

Nymeli must have noticed, because she strode up to him and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Everything will be fine, Gwy. Asura are known for their extensive knowledge of technology. I’m sure that Larra will succeed.”

“Heh” Gwyleon huffed “I do hope you’re right. If Trahearne finds out that I let his apprentice disappear like this, I’d never hear the end of it”

“I don’t know Trahearne other than by name, but he sounds awfully harsh” she replied.

“He….” Gwyleon began, struggling to find the words “He worries.. I think. I don’t know, sometimes I feel that he barely notices my existence and other times I feel that he cares too much about the things I do. I don’t understand. I just want him to realize that I’m not the same as the rest of these niave newly awakened.”

“Hmmm” Nymeli’s hand rubbed her chin “Sounds like you care a little too much for what the Firstborn thinks of you.” A devious smile creeped on her face “A crush maybe?”

“Excuse me?” Gwyleon halted, a green blush creeping on his face “Certainly not! Trahearne is cold and barely even knows I exist! Now quit your nonsense.”

Nymeli’s hands raised into the air in resignation “Okay! Okay! Don’t be so defensive. I just think you should consider that Trahearne might not be the best mentor for you” she shrugged.

Gwyleon sighed. Perhaps Nymeli was right. Trahearne had appeared in his dream, their Wyld Hunts were linked, and  they shared the profession of Necromancy. Still, he felt like an important part to their friendship was missing. They did not see eye to eye.

When they arrived at Larra’s lab, the mirror was hooked up to all kinds of machines that buzzed and whirred in unison. Pots filled with purple crystals lined the tables and wires lay jumbled on the floor.

“Finally! What took you so long?” Larra berated “Were you busy getting your hair pruned or something? I've had some time to study the mirror, and I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I'm sure we can open the portal again.”

“Okay… That’s a start, what’s the bad news?” He hesitated asking.

“Once it's open, I have absolutely no way to control what comes through. But don't worry. I didn't graduate from some Statics clown college. I've got a plan! You want something done right, go with Dynamics!”

Carys’ lips pursed angrily “I don't care about stabbics or die-on-niffics or anything else. Tegwen's in trouble! Bring her back, or I'll shove you through that mirror after her!”

Gwyleon and Nymeli shared a surprised glance at the angry outburst.

Larra rolled her eyes “Less talk, more think, houseplant. Here's what we're going to do. I'll use a multiflux cluster to tap the mirror's matrix. The cluster'll lock on Tegwen's location, and then I'll use bio-block transmats to yank her back through.”

“Yank her back through? Are you sure this is… Safe? Have you done this before?” Gwyleon asked.

“Aw, don't be so paranoid! Tegwen'll come back in one piece. Maybe a mushy sort of piece, but definitely whole. Let's get started and see what happens” Larra explained.

At a flip of a switch, the glass in the mirror ripped open into a portal that stared deeply into the heart of Orr. The rancid stench of death filled the lab and almost made Gwyleon vomit.

Without warning, a horde of powerful undead released themselves from the mirror. Gwyleon stepped back in surprise and unsheathed his greatsword. 

“The portal's open, and it's spewing undead! We have to keep them contained!” Larra shouted.

Gwyleon and Nymeli didn’t need to be told a second time. The undead were formidable foes that screamed in Gwyleon’s face when he struck them. A cold icy fear gripped his heart when he realized that his shroud was stirring under his skin.

Even though Gwyleon sustained a few cuts and bruises, Nymeli and Carys helped him cull the wave of undead.

“Give me space!” Larra called “I need my full concentration for this experiment!”

“Experiment?!” Gwyleon stabbed his sword into a risen corpse furiously. “You said you've done this before. Larra? Larra!”

Larra was fumbling with a tablet in her hands that had a bright purple screen, muttering to herself as another wave of undead were ripped from the portal in the mirror. 

Gwyleon’s eyes widened as a huge hulking amalgamation of body parts stood in front of him.

He felt his sap run cold.

The breath was knocked from him as the abomination slammed its huge malformed arm into his torso, throwing him back against the wall of the lab. He crashed into electrical circuitry and his sword fell from his grasp as tiny shocks stung his body.

“Gwyleon!” Nymeli shouted. She planned to run to him but the abomination had slid a disgusting intestine-like rope around her neck and lifted her into the air. She choked out a painful cry as her hands fought against the noose.

Gwyleon’s mind was numb. His skin felt cold, so very cold as the darkness of his shroud oozed from the cracks in his bark. His shroud wanted to protect him and to hurt those who had caused him pain.

His mind submitted to the darkness when he felt his scythe burn into his hands. He quickly righted himself and his green eyelights fixated on the abomination that was slowly killing Nymeli.

In the blink of an eye, Gwyleon appeared before the amalgamation, the blade of his scythe faced upwards as it was held low. In a fast, sweeping motion he ripped the blade through the abomination which fell into a heap of half-decayed body parts.

Nymeli fell to the ground roughly on her rear, her hands gripped her neck as she coughed raggedly.

Gwyleon paid no mind to her as he continued to cull the risen that were around him. The sickly green life force from the creatures fueled his fury.

Larra’s eyes were still glued to the tablet “Maybe the overclocking wasn't such a great idea. Aha! There's the problem. I didn't set the bio-block filter for houseplant. I mean, Sylvari. Uh, yeah. Okay, now she's humming. We'll get Tegwen. Or something. This should do the trick!”

With an grotesque suction sound, Tegwen’s dirty, but alive body fell out of the portal. Carys cried tears of joy as she threw her arms at her mentor.

Gwyleon had laid waste to all the undead that had come through the portal, but the shroud did not dissipate as his eerie green eyelights turned to Larra. His scythe was gripped in his hand as he grabbed the asura by the scruff of her shirt and lifted her into the air.

“Gwyleon!” Nymeli coughed roughly.

“H-hey!” The Asura’s eyes suddenly widened with terror as she looked at the black mist that held her.

“You lied to me about this. This was some kind of sick experiment, wasn’t it?!” Gwyleon’s voice was distorted and muffled by the shroud that surrounded him angrily.

“I.. I” Larra stammered, the tablet dropped onto the ground and the portal to Orr closed.

Nymeli’s heart hammered in her chest. If she didn’t do something, Gwyleon would rip Larra to bits. She winced as she willed herself to her feet.

“Gwyleon! Listen to me!” she commanded as she staggered towards him.

Gwyleon’s anger had overwhelmed him, but he was not fully unaware of this.

The shadows on Gwyleon’s body lashed out angrily at Nymeli as she approached, but the sound of her voice had reached him. 

His hand released Larra’s shirt and she fell to the ground with a thud. His stance softened as he commanded the shadows to retreat back under his skin.

Gwyleon knew that he had let his anger contribute to his actions, but killing the risen had been oddly satisfying.

Nymeli breathed a sigh of relief, but she did not miss the wide-eyed stares of Carys and Tegwen boring into Gwyleon.

“Tegwen!” Carys gripped other Sylvari’s shoulders tightly “Are you okay?”

“I… I need a moment. Orr was further gone than I ever imagined.” Tegwen said.

Gwyleon rolled his eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Tegwen to be a sapling. He had seen into the mirror and witnessed the undead. They weren’t anything he couldn’t handle.

“You're safe now. You never have to go back to that horrible place.” Carys assured.

“I'm in charge of training you, and yet you've saved me twice. I feel like I've been letting you down, Carys.” Tegwen smiled sadly.

“You've never let me down, Tegwen. What you taught me saved us both. I'll stay with you until you are strong again. For now, we should give the mirror to Trahearne.”

Gwyleon frowned. Surely he was in for an earful from the Firstborn.

Nymeli grabbed her axe off of the ground. “If you don’t mind” she gestured to Gwyleon “Once you’ve finished with your business at The Grove, you should come find me at the Lionguard Waystation South-East of here.”

“Why not come with us?” He questioned bluntly “You’re injured and should be seen.”

“Aha… I’m kind of on leave from The Grove for awhile. I’ve been having my own adventure. I do not need their help.”

Gwyleon could understand her desire to want to do things her own way. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t exactly have the same freedom.

 

\---

 

Gwyleon entered the Omphalos Chamber regretfully. Carys and Tegwen were standing next to Trahearne and the Pale Tree. The mirror they had found was draped with leaves and leaned against a thick branch.

“I can feel the icy grip of Orr in my heart. I need time to recover” Tegwen breathed.

“Be still, my child. You are at home now and I will shelter you. Your spirit will be whole again soon” The Pale Tree’s voice was warm and caring as she looked over the two Sylvari women.

Gwyleon did not approach, instead, Trahearne approached him with an unamused gleam in his eyes.

“Valiant”

_ ‘And so it begins… ‘ _

Trahearne crossed his arms “I want you to know just how much danger you put yourself and your peers in by letting your over-confidence rule your mind. Had you returned to The Grove with the mirror when Tegwen was captured, I would have been lent you my aid.”

Gwyleon drew in an irritated breath “I did what I thought was right.”

“You put two wardens and yourself in great danger with your decision.” Trahearne retorted.

Gwyleon’s ears dipped downwards “I felt that I had no choice! You barely register my existence, you don’t even call me by my name! You say you have lent your aid but I would have just been another mistake in your eyes.” 

“This is not about me. You once again allowed your emotion to cloud your judgement” the uncharacteristic snap of Trahearne’s voice made Gwyleon stagger.

“Why? I brought you the mirror didn’t I? Your precious Tegwen is unharmed.” He retorted.

“Be careful with your words, Valiant. There is much you still do not understand.” Trahearne stated firmly.

“You’re right, I don’t understand.”

With that, he whipped around and entered the pod that carried him from the Omphalos Chamber.

Gwyleon’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. Why? Why did Trahearne berate him so? He had done what was right and even if there were complications, the mirror and Tegwen were safe. Not every mission that he went on was going to be safe!

 

\---

 

Gwyleon’s feet carried him through Caledon Forest. His mind was clouded by a mixture of dejection and anger as he made his way towards the Lionguard Waystation. 

Perhaps a conversation with Nymeli would help clear his mind.

Since he awoke into the world, he has experienced nothing but reprimandations and warnings.

Not once did he actually feel like Trahearne had been grateful for something he did. He had stopped the Nightmare Court from finding their dumb Harbinger, he had captured the white stag before it turned to darkness, and he had even brought back an important Orrian artifact. What more did he have to do to be trusted?

Gwyleon breathed a deep sigh as the waystation came into view. What was he going to do now? He didn’t want to face Trahearne, but he’d have to go back at some point.

“Gwyleon!” Nymeli’s voice called as she ran up to him.

She noticed the slump in his shoulders immediately “Has something happened?” she asked.

The pair began walking in the direction of Wychmire Swamp when he sighed again “Trahearne was not pleased that I allowed Tegwen to be in such a dangerous situation. He berated me even though I was successful in getting the mirror  _ and _ his precious Tegwen was safe.”

“Tch…” Nymeli scoffed “He just doesn’t seem to recognize how powerful you are. How much of an asset you’d be.”

“It definitely seems so.. I just.. I wanted to prove myself to him desperately.” Gwyleon mumbled. “I just feel so angry.”

Nymeli fumbled with her knapsack quietly as she listened to Gwyleon “Don’t let that old weed bring you down, I know exactly the place where your power would be useful!”

“Huh? You- Agh!” Nymeli suddenly stabbed a poison-laced dagger into Gwyleon’s shoulder. She gripped the back of his neck and pushed him to the ground. Her knee dug painfully into his spine as she held him down and the air was knocked from his lungs.

Gwyleon gasped for air and tried to move, but his muscles would not obey him. Even his shroud didn’t respond to his call.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded furiously.

“Honestly, I thought that would be a lot harder” she shrugged “Sleep now, don’t you worry your leafy head.”

Gwyleon felt agonizing pain as darkness clouded his vision. He tried to withstand it, but his mind couldn’t contend with the poison that was running through his veins. The muddy grass was the last thing he saw before his eyelids closed.

 

\---

 

The darkness that clouded Gwyleon’s vision slowly faded as he blinked away the grogginess. There was a miasma that clouded his thoughts which retreated after a few moments.

His emerald eyes widened when he realized he was smack in the middle of a Nightmare Court camp. More importantly, he was on his knees behind a cage made of bramble bars. When he tried to move, he realized that tough, thorny vines were wrapped around his ankles and wrists.

He immediately tried to release his shroud, but anxiety rushed through him like ice when no power came to aid him.

The cage was nestled into a corner of the clearing. Nightmare courtiers patrolled the area with their repulsive hounds, but they paid him no mind. Sickly black and blue thorny vines made up the ceiling of the clearing. He figured that the Nightmare Court had been here a long time.

Nearby, he saw his greatsword leaning on a wooden table, the blade tip was stuck into the dirt.

He was in a  _ very  _ sticky situation.

His ears straightened when Nymeli strode into the room, there was another Sylvari with her. 

A dark, menacing aura radiated from Nymeli’s follower that made Gwyleon’s heart wither. Her skin was almost as dark as night and her hair was that of gnarled branches. She was wearing some kind of red and black frock made of tough plant matter. Her eyes were pitch black and made Gwyleon’s skin crawl when she looked in his direction.

“Duchess Faolain, I have found you a fantastic specimen to turn to nightmare” Nymeli bowed to who he now knew to be Firstborn Faolain.

“Hmm” Faolain mumbled as she walked over to Gwyleon’s cage. She reached her hand through the bars and grabbed his face roughly.

“Get your slimy hands off of me” he growled defiantly.

She raised a brow at that “Why exactly is he important enough to have been brought here?” Faolain dead-panned, her eyes bore deeply into Gwyleon’s emerald orbs.

“I witnessed first-hand is Necromantic prowess. He has a shroud that I’ve never seen before” Nymeli explained as she fiddled with her hands. “I watched him cut down a whole horde of risen that came straight from the heart of Orr. I was not able to retrieve the artifact as you instructed, but I brought back something better.”

Gwyleon winced as Faolain pushed his face away.

“As soon as I get out of this cage I’ll snap you like a twig” Gwyleon hissed.

Faolain snickered “Don’t make me laugh. Nymeli, bring him to me after you’re done and I’ll see if he’s actually worth my time.”

Nymeli nodded eagerly as Faolain disappeared in a blinding purple mist.

Gwyleon bit his lip “Nymeli, why are you doing this? You know that nightmare only seeks to poison your mind!” he said angrily, his wrists pulling at the vines.

“Struggle all you want, fern, I’ve suppressed your abilities until I can change you. Oh, and welcome to Twilight Arbor” her voice was uncharacteristically cold and taunting as she reached for Gwyleon’s sword.

“You can’t convert me to your little nightmare cult. I have a purpose in life unlike you” he spat.

“Do you now?” Nymeli questioned innocently. “Didn’t you just recently tell me of your failure? Trahearne was right you know, you’re not worthy of praise when there is so much darkness in your heart.”

“That’s… “ Gwyleon felt a stabbing sensation in his chest.

“Face it, you belong with the Nightmare Court. Compassion for the weak isn’t something that belongs here” Nymeli snickered as walked over and stood in front of his cage. “Trahearne doesn’t care about you. If anything, he probably just sees you as a burden.”

“No… There’s no way that’s true” Gwyleon’s voice faltered a little.

Nymeli shoved the tip of the sword into the dirt as she kneeled down to face Gwyleon, her hand rested on the side of his face gently. “I know it’s hard to understand, but you can find your place in the Nightmare Court.”

“I…” Gwyleon felt a cold darkness seeping into his heart. His eyes fell to the ground. Perhaps Nymeli was right? Had his Wyld Hunt… Been wrong?

His Wyld Hunt… That’s right! His Wyld Hunt was to end Zhaitan’s corruption and bring peace to Tyria. He would never be able to achieve his purpose in the Nightmare Court.

Gwyleon’s mind wandered to the image of Trahearne’s mangled body that he had seen in his dream. The realization came to his mind that he was meant to change not only his fate, but someone else’s as well.

The sticky darkness that threatened to overtake his soul was pushed away. The realization that he was not finished with his mission had ripped all thoughts of nightmare from his heart.

Gwyleon bunched his hands into fists. He could feel his power beginning to return to him at last.

After a pregnant pause, Gwyleon bared his teeth and his fiery green eyes burned into Nymeli. “I will NEVER turn to nightmare! I am strong, and I don’t need you or anyone telling me how worthy or unworthy I am!”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear” Trahearne’s strong voice followed his own and Nymeli whipped her head around in surprise.

Trahearne had come for him. A radiant relief filled his veins. 

The Firstborn’s scepter leaked a powerful dark magic his golden stare contended with Nymeli’s pale white eyes.

Before she could respond, Trahearne channeled a ball of dark energy from the air into his scepter and sent it flying at Nymeli.

“Aah!” she screeched as the chaotic magic slammed into her stomach and sent her reeling towards the wooden table next to Gwyleon’s cage.

Trahearne, seeing Nymeli gasping for breath, rushed over to where Gwyleon’s greatsword laid on the ground. He sheathed his scepter and dagger and used the sword to slice through the cage and bindings that held Gwyleon.

Gwyleon’s arms fell back at his sides and he pushed himself to his feet. “T-Trahearne, what are you doing here? How did you know?” he asked in disbelief.

“I was simply observing you when you left The Grove, when I couldn’t see where you disappeared to, I figured that something had gone terribly wrong. However, now is not the time to talk, we must retreat for now.” His voice was even but rushed.

Gwyleon agreed, but he couldn’t help casting one last sorrowful gaze towards Nymeli who struggled to right herself. The two rushed for the exit of Twilight Arbor together.

The entrance to the Arbor was crawling with Nightmare Courtiers who had been alerted of intruders during Trahearne’s first assault. 

With how guarded it was, Gwyleon figured that this was most definitely their base of operation. 

Glowing purple mushrooms grew along the sides of the narrow path that opened out into Wychmire Swamp.

The Firstborn outstretched his arm in front of Gwyleon as to hand him his greatsword, but Gwyleon gently pushed the arm away. “Hold on to it for a moment” he smiled.

Three nightmare courtiers stood their ground and blocked the exit to Twilight Arbor. Daggers and whips laced with a deadly toxin quite similar to the one used on Gwyleon. 

Nymeli angrily stomped her way towards the exit as well with two more courtiers and flanked the two from behind. “That was a neat little trick, Gwy, but I’m not playing any more games!”

Gwyleon turned around to face her and stepped forward to face who was once his friend.

His green eyes met Nymeli somberly “Nymeli, please, listen to me. I know that you’re still there somewhere. I need you to remember.”

“Remember what?” she scoffed. “You barely knew that I existed before I joined the Nightmare Court. I am part of them now.”

Gwyleon’s eyebrows furrowed as he realized that negotiation would not work in this situation “You know that I’m stronger than you, you can’t possibly hope to defeat me and a Firstborn.”

“Unfortunately, I have no choice. Faolain would have my head anyways if I returned with empty hands. If I am to die, I will die trying to snuff you out!” Nymeli shouted as she pulled her staff out from the vine latch on her back.

Gwyleon felt a tug at his heart. Did the Nightmare Court really poison her mind so much that she would die for them? Trahearne was right to fear the corruption.

“As you wish” he replied sadly as the darkness of his shroud overtook him. His scythe formed in his hands and he could feel it searching for hungrily life force. He would not let his power control him this time though.

The Nightmare Courtiers dashed towards Gwyleon who readied his scythe in anticipation.

“Suffer!” he shouted as he swung the blade at the attackers. A burst of ice froze them in place and he sliced cleanly through them with a single swing. 

Nymeli slammed the end of her staff against the ground before she reached into the air and wrapped dark magic around her arm. With a downward motion, she cast a field at Gwyleon’s feet.

But instead of him feeling pain, he felt his life force take the attack for him. Even though he was immune to injury, he felt his shroud would not last long if it did not have enough life force to feed upon.

Over his shoulder, Trahearne with slicing into a courtier with strength and dexterity. The Firstborn was easily dodging the attacks that the other courtier aimed at him and used Gwyleon’s blade to block frequently.

Gwyleon returned his attention to Nymeli who had her shroud wrapped around her arms. She reached out towards Gwyleon and a shadowy clawed hand aimed thirstily for his life force. 

With a swift movement, Gwyleon sliced through the hand which dissipated with a hissing noise.

He breathed a bated breath as he spun his scythe and launched himself for Nymeli. Their eyes locked as he drew back his scythe and brought it down directly on top of her head as he had done with the Knight of Embers.

There was no deathly scream as Nymeli’s body shattered into tiny icicles and scattered over the entryway.

The shroud seeped back into his bark almost immediately as the rest of his power was drained. His green eyes trailed the small green bubble that came out of one of the icicles. Nymeli’s life force - her soul, drifted towards him. He allowed the bubble to float ever so delicately in his palm before he let it fly away.

When Trahearne and Gwyleon returned to the Grove, Gwyleon was beckoned towards a small mushroom that overlooked the jungle to the West.

“I admit it” Gwyleon began. “You were right from the start.”

“It’s quite alright” Trahearne replied softly “I was worried that we had lost you to nightmare..”

Gwyleon’s ears burned “I... felt the darkness growing in my heart, but I was too worried about myself to register it.”

“Many young Sylvari have been lost to the nightmare. It seems their own greatest weakness is the darkness that lingers in their hearts.” Trahearne’s golden gaze rested on Gwyleon.

“I promise you, I am not like them. I may lack respect and compassion that you care about so much, but I will never be like them, Trahearne” Gwyleon stared at him evenly. Not with anger, but with determination.

“You will learn these things in time” Trahearne said with a soft smile. “The Pale Tree has faith in you, and as do I.”

Gwyleon did not meet Trahearne’s gaze, and instead, looked towards the jungle.

“Thank you.”


	6. A Sharp Thorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon finds that vengeance and justice are two very different things.

A week or two had passed by in the blink of an eye. Gwyleon had made a habit of avoiding Dreamers Terrace and the Grove since the incident with the Nightmare Court; favoring spending time in Northern Caledon Forest as well as Southern Kessex Hills in search for new things to test his power.

He had run over numerous groups of human bandits with positively repulsive attitudes. As much as he wanted to like humans, sometimes the behaviors of the ones he encountered often swayed his opinion.

Gwyleon had used his battles with the bandits and the risen forces in various swamps to take better control of his shroud and made the power bend to his will. The last thing that he wanted was to injure an ally because of his inability to control his shroud.

Internally, he felt that he had taken a step back in his quest to prove his worth to the Firstborn. He had almost fallen to Nightmare, but he felt that he had learned a valuable lesson from the experience.

Gwyleon was sitting a the small dock of the Ireko Tradecamp when he felt that familiar sensation of a seed pod drifting towards him.

Gwyleon eyed the small letter he pulled from the pod.

 

Valiant,

Your presence is requested. The three Orders of Tyria are locked in an argument, and the Pale Tree wishes you to settle their differences. She calls upon you to be her Herald, her voice, in this issue...and I think there is more here than meets the eye. Return to the Grove at your earliest chance, and I will explain.

Firstborn Caithe

 

Gwyleon folded the letter gently and placed it into his leafy knapsack. Hopefully this would be his chance to turn things around for himself.

 

\---

 

Gwyleon arrived at the Omphalos Chamber and almost had to cover his ears with how loud the voices were. The three representatives were yelling back and forth angrily.

“Munition golems? You want to fight the Elder Dragons with toys and dollies?” a heavily-armoured Sylvari woman’s voice reached his ears.

“Better than throwing away sylvari lives on a direct assault.” A male Sylvari clad in silver plating rebuked smugly.

“No one's throwing away lives. Vigil soldiers are the best-trained fighting force in Tyria!”

“Valiant!” Trahearne broke through the arguing “I'm glad you're here. They've been going on like this for an hour. Everyone, please be silent. We are all assembled, and the Mother Tree wishes to speak.”

Once the representatives stopped arguing and Gwyleon could hear himself think again he approached the group of Sylvari. They must have been waiting for him to begin their meeting.

“Greetings, Valiant. Today, you take the next steps on the journey of your Wyld Hunt” The Pale Tree addressed Gwyleon. “ Zhaitan's forces are gathering at Overlake Haven. The orders wish to defend the location, but their plans differ.Valiant, I name you to be my herald in this matter. The Grove can only back one of these plans. May your dream guide your decision.”

The Pale Tree’s voice made him feel warm, she sounded as if she was putting much faith in him.

“I am honored, Mother Tree. I shall do my best” he replied with a bow.

Gwyleon’s gaze fell upon the dark blue Sylvari woman who was clad in gold and black armour. It looked a little too heavy for his liking.

“My name is Branthyn. I represent the Vigil. We can have a platoon arrayed at Overlake Haven immediately. Our soldiers can handle this situation. In the Vigil, we prefer to fight our enemies head-on. The best way to protect the haven is to provide military force.”

Gwyleon could feel her commanding tone and took a liking to it. He often took a head-on approach to his own battles as well and could respect her viewpoint.

Before he could respond, another voice broke through.

“You're asking to risk countless lives! Herald, the Durmand Priory proposes a far safer course of action. My name is Ioworth. The Priory wants to utilize experimental munitions golems to destroy the undead. We'll have no soldiers on the field at all” said the silver-armoured Sylvari.

Ioworth struck Gwyleon as irritating from the first word he spoke, how condescending he sounded to Branthyn completely rubbed him the wrong way.

“Completely untested munitions golems!” Branthyn retorted “You're the one risking lives. What if your golems fail?”

“Branthyn does have a point” Gwyleon agreed.

Throughout the incessant arguing, he had noticed a darkly-clad yellow Sylvari also standing nearby, she must have been the last representative.

Gwyleon’s eyes studied her coldly, even in the daylight it looked like the small Sylvari was attempting to hide from view. She specifically reminded him of Caithe when he studied her posture and choice of weapons.

“And you, emissary? You've been quiet through the whole argument.” He addressed her.

“I'm Cai, and I represent the Order of Whispers. I brought this situation to the Pale Tree's attention, but I'll leave the front-line fighting to the others” she explained.

“I see” Gwyleon shrugged “Give me a moment to decide.”

The representatives continued their argument as soon as he exited the conversation. He was definitely going to have a headache by the time this was over.

The tips of his ears tingled as he felt the gaze of Caithe, Trahearne, and the Pale Tree resting on him. He internally wondered if Trahearne had joined an order in the past and despite their differences, he needed all the information he could get.

“Are you part of an order, Trahearne?”

“No” he responded evenly “but I have worked with each of them and I do respect them a great deal.”

“Oh? Why is that?” He asked.

“Orr consumes all of my time. I cannot remain here on the continent while the land there cries out for aid” Trahearne explained.

He reminded himself that he would one day find himself in that land to destroy Zhaitan. In essence, their two Wyld Hunts were linked.

Gwyleon huffed, the two orders representatives were waiting for his response. It appeared that both would be excited to have his backing. As far as he could tell, the representative of the Priory was too enthralled with playing with machines than actually protecting lives. The Vigil seemed to have the most sound plan. Though, just to appease those above him, he turned to Branthyn.

“Before I decide, can you tell me more about your plan?”

“Vigil squad punches through the undead sieging the haven. Once we've liberated the haven, a combined assault will be plenty to mop up the enemy.” She explained eagerly.

Gwyleon didn’t miss her eyes staring at the tip of his greatsword that attached to his back with vines.

“In visiting the Grove, I have heard quite a bit about you, that’s a pretty big sword you’ve got there. Perhaps you’d be willing to take on this challenge” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Challenge?” He questioned “Sounds better than playing with hunks of metal.”

Caithe exchanged a concerned glance with Trahearne.

Gwyleon was alone with his power. He had no allies to call upon because his pride and egotism pushed them away.

His power in and of itself was not normal for a newly awakened. It was incredibly strong and instilled fear even in those that could be his allies.

Trahearne knew full well that those around him were frightened by power and angered by conceit. He did not want to imagine what would happen if Gwyleon were to rush into a real battle without allies behind him.

“Many lives are at risk, Valiant. Do not forget this” Trahearne interjected.

“Yes, _I know_ ” Gwyleon replied with a deepened voice “That’s why I plan to follow the Vigil into battle instead of put my faith in untested pieces of metal. It’s the most logical solution”

Ioworth’s ears tilted towards the ground in embarrassment “A shame. The Priory will have our munitions golems ready if you fail.”

 _‘I plan not to’_ Gwyleon thought as the representatives departed from the Omphalos Chamber.

“Herald” Trahearne’s voice prodded him as he made his way towards the exit “I’d like to speak with you”

Gwyleon could already tell he was in for an earful. What had he done wrong now? He made the most logical choice the could, it just happened to align with what he wanted as well.

Trahearne had trailed him out of earshot of Caithe and the Pale Tree who were looking from a distance.

“Herald, I implore you to put more consideration behind your choices. Each order has a unique way of doing things. It does not mean they are wrong or naive.”

Gwyleon scoffed “The Priory wanted to send untested munitions golems into battle to defend innocents. Weren’t you the one who said all life is precious? How could his idea possibly be respectable?”

“Had those golems been tested in the battle to come, they could have proven to be a worthy asset as future guards to other outposts in the future.” Trahearne said “There is much that you need to consider when making your choices. You recall what happened with the mirror, don’t you?”

“The Pale Tree called me here to be her Herald in this matter. I believe I have made the right choice. I wasn’t the one arguing for over an hour, and I wasn’t the one so stuck up that they couldn’t come to an impasse. I may have made a mistake before, but I’m sure this is the right choice” He retorted.  
“She did, but she also intended for you to learn something from this experience. Respect will take you far in your life, even if you do not truly wish to give it. Thinking like each order and making your decision only then will prove fruitful; you must also consider the long-term effect of your decision” Trahearne insisted.

“Respect is _earned_ , not willingly given. If this has proven anything it’s that I don’t have the same linear mindset as them and I’m am _not_ to be compared to them.” With that, Gwyleon turned his back on Trahearne and stepped into the pod.

Trahearne heaved a heavy sigh as he watched Gwyleon’s departure.

 

\---

 

The battle at Overlake Haven was a Sortie for Gwyleon. His power had raised dramatically over the time that he had been in Kessex Hills and the groups of undead were no match for his sword.

The Orrian corpses were strung out over the battlefield and the remaining Lionguard at the outpost were working on setting the corpses on fire.

Gwyleon’s magic prickled with unease as he felt a powerful presence watching him from the hill above the outpost. His eyes widened as a dark shade with glowing green eyes bored into him from its perch on the hill. The magic that radiated off of the creature almost matched that of his own but felt more malicious, more threatening.

The moment stretched out as Gwyleon’s emerald eyes locked with that of the shade. He had never felt such a powerful Orrian presence until now. With a blink of his eyes, the shade disappeared.

Branthyn approached Gwyleon with a grin on her face “Herald, you did wonderfully! I have to say, your skill on the battlefield is second to none. You should think about joining us. We could use someone with your courage.”

While he did appreciate the praise, his mind was fixated on the memory of the shade “I’ll consider it, but tell me, did you perhaps see the strange-looking shade watching us from the hillside?”

“I did. I've never seen its like before. If Zhaitan has created something new, we'd better figure it out quick so we can learn its weaknesses.”

“Indeed” Gwyleon agreed “We should return to the Grove to report our success and findings.”

 

\---

 

The order representatives, the two Firstborn, and the Pale Tree were waiting for Gwyleon eagerly as he stepped out of the pod and into the Omphalos Chamber. He overheard the tail end of the conversation taking place.

“Whisper agents report a strange creature leading the attack on Overlake. Know anything about that, Branthyn?” Cai prodded.

Branthyn huffed angrily, “That's classified information—unless you're planning to join us on the battlefield when we fight it?”

“If the Vigil wants to rush off like idiots, go ahead.” Cai shrugged “our agents are a bit more cautious.”

“‘Cautious’? I guess that's one word for it” Branthyn replied.

Gwyleon sighed and strode past the arguing representatives. He addressed the Pale Tree with a dip of his head “I have good news, Mother Tree. Overlake Haven is safe, and the undead have been driven away” He announced triumphantly.

“Valiant, I was told about the strange undead you saw on the battlefield. I think I can help you.” Trahearne interjected and Gwyleon looked at him with mild surprise.

“The creature sounds like a lich. From the description I was given, I think I can identify it as Mazdak the Accursed.”

“Mazdak the Accursed? I know that name.” The Pale Tree’s voice dipped somberly “One of my firstborn, Riannoc, went to destroy Mazdak many years ago. I armed him with a thorn from my own bough, a mighty sword named Caladbolg. Both were lost, never to return to the Grove.” Her sad eyes fell upon Gwyleon. “Herald, it seems you have a chance to discover the fate of my lost son and perhaps even avenge Riannoc's death.”

“Of course, mother!” He replied immediately. The sorrow in her gaze reached deeply into his heart and made him feel like crushing anyone who dare cause her such pain.

“Legend says that Riannoc chose a human to be his squire. If that squire survived, the Order of Whispers could find him. The Order is very good at tracking people down - even when they don't want to be found.” Cai explained.

“Untrustworthy, as always.” Ioworth sneered “I have an alternate suggestion. As you may know, the Durmand Priory specializes in researching and recovering lost knowledge. This sounds like an exciting opportunity to experiment with a ritual we've uncovered. If cast, it lets you witness the last moments of a person's life.”

“The mystery of Riannoc's death has pained the Sylvari since the days of the Firstborn. Knowing his fate would help to heal that wound.” Trahearne interjected; his sulfur forlorn gaze trained carefully on Gwyleon.

He was a bit taken aback by Trahearne’s fondness of Riannoc. Still, he could tell that Trahearne was attempting to test his judgement, he was starting to feel like everything he said was being studied.

Briefly, he recollected the stories that Riannoc would tell in The Dream and how sad he sounded when reading them. Perhaps this was why the memory of the Firstborn within the dream radiated such a sorrowful aura.

“Branthyn?” Gwyleon began “Does the Vigil have any suggestions?”

“Information-gathering isn't our strong suit. Instead, I'll go ask my superiors how to kill a lich. I'll meet you back here when you're done” She responded.  
“Very well… Ioworth” Gwyleon addressed the Priory representative. “You said you had some kind of magical ritual to see the dead?”

Ioworth’s blue eyes looked up in surprise “Yes, but not death, Herald--we can see the last minutes of life. Be witness to the events immediately before Riannoc's death. Think of it!”

Gwyleon registered the giddiness in Ioworth’s voice “I'm thinking. How easy is it to do?”

Ioworth crossed his arms “Well, it's a bit dangerous. A lot dangerous, actually. But you can experience the events as they unfold. Isn't that exciting?”

“Dangerous huh?” Gwyleon smiled smugly, but it immediately disappeared when he felt Trahearne’s gaze. “I mean um… I’ll have to review all my options.” He refined his statement.

Gwyleon turned towards the Order of Whispers representative. “So Cai, what do you have in mind?”

Cai smiled at him “I know a human settlement North of the Caledon Forest. Waine has friends there. He may have told them what really happened.”  
“How will we get the information?” Gwyleon asked.   
“Infiltration, espionage and good old-fashioned arm twisting. Are you in?”   
Gwyleon rubbed his chin thoughtfully; weighing the two options in his mind as Trahearne had instructed. He didn’t particularly find faith in either of their plans, but so far he had noticed that the Priory had been more interested in experimenting with new things than getting to the point.

Cai’s plan was less interesting, but it seemed to be the most reliable in this particular situation. In a few short moments, he had decided what option he would choose.

“Your plan sounds convincing, Cai. I’ll take you up on your offer” Gwyleon answered.  
“Wise decision.” Cai said in a satisfied tone “We've tracked the squire to a camp in the Wenon Steps. Meet me there, and we'll infiltrate. Make for the border, South of Robbari's bandit camp. I'll just go get a few items we'll need, and then meet you there.”   
Gwyleon then turned to Ioworth who looked, at most, a little disappointed. “My apologies, Ioworth. I think that this is the best course of action.”

Ioworth shrugged “The ritual goes back on the shelf, then. A pity. Best of luck to you with the Order of Whispers!”

Gwyleon blinked in surprise “Thank you.”

The representatives of each order departed from the Omphalos Chamber relatively satisfied.

A dark green flush creeped on his face when he spun around and noticed the corners of Trahearne’s mouth were upturned in a smile.

Gwyleon rubbed his face “Are you happy now? I hope that this is worth it…” he mumbled.

Upon further inspection, he noticed that Trahearne’s smile was sad and his eyes wandered elsewhere.  
“My apologies, I was recalling the last time that I had seen Riannoc.” Trahearne explained. “Ah, Riannoc. I warned you - told you not to go alone, but you did not listen. We were all so confident. So unafraid of death…” he trailed off.   
“You.. Told him not to go?” Gwyleon asked cautiously.   
“I did. But he would not listen. He said that Mazdak was too great an evil to leave unchallenged.” Trahearne’s gaze slowly returned to Gwyleon.   
“In that, I suppose, he was right” Gwyleon said “Worry not, I’ll solve this mystery, I promise” he said, determination shining brightly in his eyes.

“I hope as much, Valiant” Trahearne returned bluntly.

Gwyleon’s brows knitted, it felt like his attempt to reconcile with Trahearne backfired slightly. Was it distrust that was causing the Firstborn to be so… Cold?

 

\---

 

Upon Gwyleon’s arrival to the bandit camp, he spotted the yellow leaves of Cai’s hair within the shadows of a bush. She beckoned towards him silently as her eyes trained on the camp ahead.

“There you are, Herald. I just finished putting together our disguises!” Cai said ecstatically.

Gwyleon figured that looking like the Sylvari he was wasn’t going to get him anywhere in a human bandit camp. Though his faith in Cai told him that she would have something planned to resolve that problem.  
“Alright, now wha-” Gwyleon was cut off when a thick purple mist wrapped around him.

He felt his body warp dramatically. His evergreen skin was replaced with a pink fleshy material that was elastic and plushy. The messy green leaves on his head changed into short brown frizzled locks of hair.

What was once his plant armour had changed into a brown leather trench coat. A matching leather mask hid his nose and mouth.  
“W-what is this?” he exclaimed as he looked at his hands “I feel… ”

“I've been working on this disguise spell for a while. The hat alone took three months! I knew it'd come in handy to look like a human. What do you think? I'm not as talented as the queen of Divinity's Reach, but my work as a mesmer is a benefit to the Order of Whispers.” Cai reveled in her triumph.

“It’s… a little unnerving to be honest. I feel mushy and unwieldy” he admitted, his fingers prodding his arms.  
Cai shrugged “Well, you won't have to wear it for long. According to our records, Riannoc's squire was named Waine. This human settlement is his place of birth.”

“Hold on” Gwyleon interrupted “you already knew the name of Riannoc's squire? Why didn't you say so?”  
“The Order of Whispers knows a lot more than most people realize. We are Tyria's eyes and ears. The more we know, the more subtly we can operate. We don't have a big army or a ton of researchers. Instead, we use politics and blackmail to shape the world” Cai explained.   
“What if blackmail doesn’t get you what you want?”   
“Then we steal it, of course!” Cai said “Now come on, these disguises won't last forever, and we have a lot of investigation to do. Remember, we're big, floppy human bandits. We're not afraid of anything. Ready? Let's go!”

The bandit camp was more fortified than any Nightmare Court camp he had seen. Tall spiked logs lined the edges of the camp that were likely twice his height. There was a large burly human guard standing at the doorway to the camp, an ugly expression on his face.

The pair of disguised Sylvari approached the gate, but were soon confronted by the guard. “Where do you think you're going, stranger? Back off, or you'll end up in a bad way” He threatened.

Gwyleon wasn’t deterred by the threat, if anything, it was like issuing a challenge.

“Get out of my way, you slime! I have important news about Kryta that I must report.” He growled threateningly.

The guard looked strangely thoughtful “Hm. Well, you look savvy enough, but you better not be wasting our time! You want Dola, up in the tree to the left.”

_‘Heheh… that was easy.’_

Gwyleon had met a few ruffians and helped them with their various tasks that Dola instructed him to complete before she could trust him with the information on Wayne. Various pointless tasks like unlocking an asura-tech box, cooking up some Moa meat, and having even an insult contest were some of the things he did.

There was one bandit who looked particularly nasty, and Gwyleon came to find that his name was Jat. There wasn’t much use talking to him though, since he had nothing useful to say.

Upon returning to Dola, she had a pleased smile on her face. “Not bad, cutter. The whole camp's talking about you. Running this place is a lot like herding cats. So, do you know Waine well?”

Gwyleon struggled to answer correctly “Absolutely. Waine and I have been old friends since we were tiny, weak, pink fleshlings!”

Dola’s brows furrowed in amused confusion “You mean since you were...children? Right. Okay, got it. Heh. You're pretty funny, cutter. Look, I hardly know the bloke, but he's like a brother to Jat. Hey, Jat! Some people up here wanna talk to you about Waine.”

Jat’s eyes flashed with fear as he looked up at the platform the three were standing on “S-stay away from me!” he yelled before bolting out of the camp.  
“Thorns and brambles!” Cai cursed “After that… mustached… man-thing!”

The pair tracked Jat towards a large ravine where he was being attacked by a group of slimy-tentacled breeze-riders. Gwyleon and Cai made quick work of dispatching the animals before cornering Jat.

“If you touch a hair on my head, Waine'll hunt you down and beat you up. He can do it, too! He's got a magic sword!” Jat threatened as he cowered in fear.

Cai smiled deviously “A magic sword, huh? Let me guess. It's about so long, sort of leafy-looking, glowy…”  
“That's the one! He stole it from some stupid Sylvari named Riannoc. Swiped it right out of his hand and left him to fight some lich! Waine's a clever one. That sword won him every tournament in the Lion's Arch arena... until they caught him cheating. Don't you think he's all out of shape or nothing. He still pit-fights out near Guardian's Pass, so you'd better not make him mad!”   
Gwyleon grinned under his mask “Thanks, human, that’s exactly what we needed to know.”   
“Huh?” Jat said in confusion.

“Hah!” Cai laughed “You're good at this! The Order of Whispers would be lucky to have you as an agent, Gwyleon.”  
“Heh” he chuckled, appreciating the recognition “That’s flattering, thanks” he replied evenly. He didn’t want to make Cai believe that he had made his choice.

“Come, Cai. Let's get this information to the Pale Tree - and this time, we’re going to share _everything_ that we know...”   
Gwyleon was not exactly fond of how the Order of Whispers representative had kept information from the Pale Tree. Didn’t she realize how much Riannoc’s death had pained their mother?

 

\---

 

Gwyleon’s footprints made a trail behind him as he entered the Omphalos Chamber. Though there was lots of chatter from the representatives (as usual), Gwyleon couldn’t help but be mildly distracted by the beautiful night sky that he could see clearly from the chamber.

The Pale Tree’s face brightened when she noticed Gwyleon’s arrival “Welcome back, Gwyleon. Tell me, have you learned of Riannoc's fate?”  
“Indeed I have” he began “Riannoc died fighting Mazdak the Accursed, but his sword was stolen. A friend betrayed him. Waine, Riannoc's squire. During the battle, he stole the weapon and fled” Gwyleon snarled.   
“Betrayed, and by someone he loved. Why are people so drawn to betrayal?” Caithe asked in forlorn sadness.

“Waine still carries Caladbolg. He's been using it to compete in gladiatorial tournaments.” Gwyleon spat.

Branthyn spoke up angrily “I insist that the Vigil accompany you. We'll face this wretch in the tournament ring and thrash his hide! Our order is founded on the principles of courage and duty. I can't stand to hear that Caladbolg is being wielded by an honorless traitor!”  
Gwyleon couldn’t help but agree wholeheartedly. He may be a Necromancer, but he wasn’t without honor.

“You trusting fool!” Cai growled “Waine'll flee if he finds out you're there. With a little trickery, we can manipulate the tournament. Once Waine's been beaten, the Order of Whispers can steal the sword with ease. Stop thinking with your sword-arm and start using your brain!”  
Gwyleon was about to say something nasty when he caught a stern glance from Trahearne. He grumbled internally and refined his words. “Both are interesting suggestions. Iowerth, your thoughts?”

“I'm afraid gladiatorial tournaments aren't the Priory's forte. While you get the sword, I'll research Mazdak and try to pinpoint his location.” He said.  
“Sounds good” Gwyleon replied.   
“Gwyleon” The Pale Tree said softly “Caladbolg must be returned. Decide, and go forth to deal justice.”

“Yes, of course mother” he nodded and turned towards the representatives.

Gwyleon’s ears flattened in displeasure as he heard them bickering once more.  
“You want to compete in the tournament? That's adorably stupid. Why compete when we can just rig it?” Cai offered.   
“You have no honor, Cai” Branthyn sneered. “All this needs is a show of force. Once Waine realizes he's outmatched, he'll give up the sword.”   
“You say honor, and I say smarts. I've got them, and you don't.” Cai snickered.

Gwyleon felt his patience slipping as he yelled “Hey!” at both representatives who looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do this my way! I’m not going to be a slimy conniving stealer like Waine himself is” he glared at Cai. “If you’re going to continue playing thief like a human child I won’t listen to any more words you have to offer me”

Branthyn nodded her head in agreement “Waine cows his opponents through fear and bullying, but the Vigil won't turn away. We'll face him, fight him, and defeat him in the vitruous way!”

Cai radiated a palpable displeasure “Tch... well, good luck with that "kick in the door" thing. If you have any trouble, I'll be here, ready to help out.”

Gwyleon narrowed his eyes, he didn’t know if Cai would be true to her word or not regardless of her assurance. He decided not to respond.  
“I'm looking forward to working with you! Meet you outside Stoneguard Gate.” Branthyn saluted Gwyleon before the three representatives took their leave.

He wasn’t going to wait for some haughty comment from Trahearne this time. He quickly made his way to the pod that descended from the Omphalos Chamber.

Caithe watched Trahearne’s sulfur gaze follow Gwyleon out of the Omphalos Chamber. “He reminds me greatly of Faolain, consumed by the idea of her own ‘justice’. So much so that his fate concerns me” she admitted.

Trahearne nodded in agreement. Faolain was once very arrogant and eager to please her allies with her strength. Trahearne didn’t know exactly why she turned to nightmare, but from what Caithe had mentioned, Gwyleon could not be far behind.  
“Perhaps.” The Pale Tree interjected. “But he still has much of his life ahead of him. Have faith my children, as I have in you.”

Trahearne breathed a resigned sigh “I pray you are right, mother.”

 

\---

 

The fighting pit was full of all kinds of races that Gwyleon was not very experienced at interacting with. There were several incredibly large, bulky Charr standing in the back of the camp near the tents. Many humans and Skritt lined the raised area around the arena.

Below, Gwyleon could see Waine wielding Caladbolg as he struck down a huge hulking Norn with a swing of the blade. The shroud beneath his skin pulsed with anger at the sight of the sword being used for such ridiculous acts.

“Treasonous snake.” Branthyn growled “Let's jump down there and break it out of his hand!”

Gwyleon couldn’t help but wish that they could, but all of these spectators would likely cause an issue if they did.

“We can't make a scene. Half these people are bandits. If they suspect the sword's value, we'll never make it out alive.” He said.  
“You're right, of course” Branthyn admitted “but that doesn't make this any easier. The Vigil punishes evil. It's difficult to stand here and allow it to continue…” There was a moment of pause over the roar of the crowd “We'll have to enter the tournament as we'd planned. If we defeat him honestly, we can claim the sword as "battle-price." If he doesn't give it to us, he'll be shamed in front of all these thugs. Then he's the dead one. If you think you can beat him, you join the tournament. I'll stay up here . If these thugs get rowdy, I'll handle them.”   
Gwyleon nodded in agreement “Great plan. I’ll take care of the treasonous snake. Hold on a moment while I register in the tournament”

Internally, Gwyleon was a mixture of excitement that he’d be able to potentially fight someone worthy, and angry that it had to be someone as disgusting as Waine. He would take serious satisfaction in beating the human to a pulp.

“Balteus Bloodletter's announcing the fights and handling registrations. He's usually in Ascalon, but he likes to work these fights.” Branthyn added.

Gwyleon nodded in understanding before sauntering off.

As Gwyleon made his way towards the group of Charr, he overheard a human child gasp.

“Hey, dad? What are those walking ferns?” he asked the larger human.  
“Sssh, son, don't call them plants. Watch the fighting and let daddy drink his beer.” The man then cheered as Waine knocked down another opponent in the arena.

Gwyleon’s nose wrinkled in annoyance, but, he continued on his way towards the Charr that was taking registrations regardless.

“You there, Sylvari! We don't see many of you around here. Will you be fighting in the tournament?” Balteus Bloodletter called out to Gwyleon.

“Indeed I will!” His emerald glare shifted to Waine and he pointed “I want to fight him.”

“That's Waine, our current champion. First you have to survive the preliminary rounds. Then you can fight Waine.” The Charr explained.

Gwyleon rolled his eyes in impatience “Fine, I’ll fight the other weaklings then.”  
Balteus looked unimpressed by Gwyleon’s words and simply shrugged before scribbling the Sylvari’s name down on a paper.

The contenders that Gwyleon fought in the tournament were no stronger than some courtiers he had fought in the past. The Asura with an incredibly annoying attitude, a filthy dirt-covered human with a pirate hat, and naturally the quaggan were no match for his large thorned blade.

He didn’t kill them, but had they not been carried out in stretchers immediately, they likely would have died from blood loss.

Finally, Waine descended into the arena. “The one, the only, the master of disaster, lord of the sword! Iiiiiiit's - Waine!” announced Balteus.

The various cheers that called Waine’s name made Gwyleon’s nose wrinkle in disgust.

_‘If only they knew.’_

As soon as the word “Fight!” met his ears, Gwyleon rushed forward and smashed the hilt of his sword onto Waine’s shoulder. A sickening cracking sound and Waine’s cry brought a toothy grin to Gwyleon’s lips.

“You're outmatched, Waine, but I'm not here for your life. I'm here for Caladbolg. Give me Riannoc's sword, and maybe I’ll pity your sad existence and let you go.” Gwyleon narrowed his eyes.

“The sword is mine! Riannoc wasn't worthy of it. He was willing to give his life...for what?” Waine yelled as he gripped his dislocated shoulder.

“For his people!” Gwyleon spat “and unfortunately, also for you, Waine. He stayed to give you a head start from Mazdak. The lich would have chased you down to get Caladbolg. _That's_ why Riannoc died!”

Gwyleon’s sword was gripped so tightly in his hands, he thought he felt sap running over his fingers.

“No. You can't know. You weren't there! I'll kill you. Then, I'll put Riannoc and you smug sylvari behind me, for good!” Waine retorted as he swung Caladbolg at Gwyleon’s feet, knocking him over into his back the dust.

Gwyleon shielded his chest with his greatsword as Waine brought down Caladbolg’s fury onto him. Both weapons met and whined with resistance as the blades fought for dominance.

In that brief moment, Gwyleon lifted his legs into the air and kicked hard into Waine’s stomach, sending him staggering backwards.

Gwyleon lifted himself off the ground and readied his blade for another attack. His feet dug deeply into the dusty ground as he propelled himself forward, his thorn outstretched and aimed for Waine’s chest.

Gwyleon didn’t anticipate an explosion of white hot energy pulse from Caladbolg as he attempted to strike the snake. He gasped as his sword was thrown from his grip.

“I told you, weed. Caladbolg is mine!” Waine regained his composure and gripped Caladbolg tightly before sprinting towards Gwyleon.

Gwyleon felt a pang of concern for a moment before he realized that he wasn’t entirely defenseless. A malicious smile crawled on his face as the dark shadows beneath his bark began to coat him in an icy shroud.

An ear-splitting clang run out in the arena and the cheering died down as Caladbolg’s blade smashed into Gwyleon’s curved scythe blade. The power of Caladbolg was strong and attempted to combat the shadows of Gwyleon’s powerful shroud.

Gwyleon overpowered Caladbolg and pushed Waine away. Waine wailed in agonizing pain when Gwyleon then aimed a low sweep of his blade close to the ground, the blade sliced deeply into Waine’s knees and red blood splattered onto the dirt.

“Aaaaah!” Waine cried as he fell to his knees, the pool of red essence gathering beneath him. The human looked up at Gwyleon with eyes full of fear before Gwyleon cut his head clean off his shoulders.

His shroud dissipated once the threat of being attacked was gone. The icy shadows seeped back under his bark as he willed them. Since taking full control of his shroud, he felt much more confident in his kills.

Waine’s life forced danced around his fingertips like a sickly green firefly. Gwyleon could feel the relief Waine felt when he died radiating from the green bubble before it disappeared into his palm.

The spectators were silenced in fear as he reached for the handle of Caladbolg. He hesitated for a moment before gingerly picking up his prize. The sword glowed softly in his hands and small golden and blue butterflies danced around the blade.

Gwyleon cast a final glance at Waine’s body before ascending up the stairs to meet Branthyn. The Sylvari woman looked positively giddy “By the Pale Mother that was amazing! Your combat prowess is outstanding!” she cheered.

 _‘Thank you for noticing_ ’ he thought.

“Waine was grateful to die” he said “Rightfully so, considering how much guilt filled his life.

Branthyn’s blue gaze rested on Caladbolg which shone brightly in Gwyleon’s grip. “It seems you gave him what he really wanted in the end. Come, Herald. I'll take Caladbolg back to the Pale Tree, and then we'll find a way to make Mazdak pay.”

“Right” Gwyleon agreed “I’ll be there soon.”

 

\---

 

Branthyn’s voice was the first to reach his ears as he entered the Omphalos chamber once more “Waine is not the only villain in this tale. We must bring down Mazdak.” she stated.

“Killing a lich is no easy matter. It will require significant planning.” Cai added.

Ioworth shrugged “Every creature has a weakness. Even Mazdak. If we have the knowledge, we will know where to strike.”

To Gwyleon’s surprise, Trahearne beckoned him towards the group “Welcome, Herald. Join our circle - there is much to explain.”

“Greetings, my courageous Herald” the Pale Tree smiled at Gwyleon “I have heard news of your victory. Caladbolg is returned, at last.”

Gwyleon bowed his head, the sword was safely delivered by Branthyn and it glowed softly in the Pale Tree’s grasp.

“Waine has finally been punished for his crimes” Gwyleon said.

“Herald” Ioworth tapped Gwyleon on the shoulder “Herald, my research at the Priory proved fruitful. I know where Mazdak the Accursed was buried, and I believe I know his next target. He's planning to attack a human town known as the "Ascalon Settlement." If we don't stop him, he'll wipe them out” He reported.

Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted “The lich plans to attack Ascalon Settlement? They’re a peaceful area with few defenses… The lich must be laid to rest.”

Branthyn was the first to speak “We have the soldiers. If the Pale Tree would allow Caladbolg to be borne into battle, the Vigil can destroy Mazdak. All it takes is firepower, courage, and a direct assault.”

Cai shook her head in disagreement “You always think in a straight line! Look, Mazdak's forces will have to move through the centaur tribes to get to Ascalon Settlement. Why not turn them against each other and take down two birds with one stone? The Order of Whispers could do that easily” She offered.

“I know where Mazdak was buried. The Priory could explore his tomb, get past the traps, and find a way to destroy the lich while he slumbers. It's the logical approach.” Ioworth added.

 _‘Hardly…’_ Gwyleon thought.

Caithe tapped her foot on the ground “Regardless, the lich must be destroyed. For Riannoc, and for Tyria.” She turned her attention squarely to Gwyleon “Listen to me. The orders wish you to join them. If you do, they will lend you strength. With their backing, we can defeat Mazdak. It is your destiny to fight Zhaitan. Joining an order will help you achieve that goal. _Choose wisely._ ”

Gwyleon shrugged “My choice has already been made, Caithe. Clearly the Vigil has been most successful at getting the job done.” He announced.

Branthyn beamed happily from behind him, but Caithe sighed in frustration.

“This is not a simple decision to make, Valiant. Do not rush yourself, and consider each option carefully” she warned.

“Caithe is correct” Trahearne added “each order has something to provide to you if you just listen and respect their ideas.”

Gwyleon felt his blood boil “I told you, I planned to choose the Vigil because they were the most effective in almost every situation. Why should I entertain the others if one of them is just going to be conniving backstabbing while the other is just playing with toys?”

Trahearne shook his head “I would not hold you from whatever decision you make, but I do not wish for decision to be so incredibly ill-informed...”

Ouch. The singe from Trahearne’s comment burned the tips of his ears as they turned downwards. The cold feeling of disapproval from the Firstborn shocked the misplaced anger from his heart and his eyes fell to the ground.

The taste of acid ran over Gwyleon’s tongue as he admitted to himself that maybe he had made his conclusion too hastily. He realized that he allowed the lesson Trahearne was trying to teach him fly over his head and inwardly cursed at himself.

He breathed in a heavy sigh before his green eyes shone up at Trahearne “You are right… I apologize” he admitted. “Each plan has their own merits, but I do believe that the Vigil has the most logical plan and is the order that I should be a part of.”

A thoughtful expression lingered on Trahearne’s face as he studied Gwyleon. Perhaps, he thought, Gwyleon _was_ capable of taking his options into consideration without letting the idea of revenge or arrogance influence him. Perhaps the young Sylvari used that anger and overconfidence as more of a skeleton to protect something more fragile within his heart. The thoughts lingered in his mind when he recalled how Gwyleon deflated at his comment.

“A clear mind makes for a sound decision. If you remember that, you will make a great fighter one day, Gwyleon.” Trahearne smiled.

Gwyleon’s emerald stare held firmly. He had allowed his anger to drive his words and influence his mind when he should have been listening. He felt foolish, but he also felt relieved that he had received some hint of praise from Trahearne.

As the tense atmosphere began to dissipate and Caithe stared in surprise. Truthfully, she didn’t think that Gwyleon would have backed down so easily at the statement Trahearne had made. He certainly wouldn’t have if it had been her who had scathed him. She was certain he would have taken it as a challenge. Still, she had to admit that the Pale Tree was right in her words about Gwyleon.

“Excellent! Your talents will be much appreciated in the Vigil. We'll handle the formalities after the battle. Trahearne, will you accompany us on this adventure? Your knowledge of Orrian undead is second to none.” Branthyn finally broke the awkward silence.

“I have no intention of joining your order, but yes, I will lend my aid” Trahearne answered levelly.

Gwyleon still felt the heat of embarrassment stinging his cheeks as the order representatives departed. He decided that it was best to leave the conversation the way it was and depart as well.

Once Gwyleon departed, the Pale Tree offered a knowing smile.

 

\---

 

The battle at Ascalon Settlement was Gwyleon’s chance to prove himself to Trahearne and to the Pale Tree that he was willing of their trust. The prospect of being able to exact revenge for Riannoc once more made him feel eager for battle.

The Vigil forces had showed up at the settlement en masse. There were massive Norn and Charr warriors which wielded hammers and swords. Asura technicians and coordinators were working on battle plans with several Humans. Gwyleon’s own people, the Sylvari, were waiting patiently to begin their assault on the settlement. He had even spotted Caithe and Trahearne among those who had come to fight.

“Hello Recruit!” Branthyn greeted Gwyleon “Your brothers and sisters of the Vigil are assembled and ready to launch the offensive against Mazdak's troops.”

“I can see that. The Vigil is definitely impressive, I think this is the first time I’ve seen the races together like this” Gwyleon crossed his arms as he noticed Trahearne and Caithe approach. “What are the battle plans?”

“Because you know what we are up against, I'm putting you in charge of the forward assault. We are assaulting on a direct path. Our troops will go through the front gates, and then secure the various areas of the town. Mazdak the Accursed is powerful, and I expect the fight will be grim, so be prepared for anything.”

“I’m always prepared for a fight. Mazdak won’t know what hit him” Gwyleon announced.

“My knowledge of the undead will be useful, but I am no frontline fighter. The Herald must lead the way in this battle with Caladbolg” Trahearne handed the thorn to Gwyleon with a smile.

 _‘I’m not sure how you can say that when I saw you cut down those Nightmare Court...’_ Gwyleon thought as he took Caladbolg from Trahearne’s grasp.

The power of the sword flowed through him. It was warm and comforting; almost as if he carried the will of The Grove with him. Small yellow and blue butterflies danced around the blade.

Once we get into the town, I'll scout ahead and prepare ambushes” Caithe’s voice broke his stupor. “After the Vigil gains their attention, I'll gut our enemies down from behind.”

Gwyleon nodded and addressed the members of the Vigil and the Firstborn who had accompanied him as a whole. “Today is the day that Mazdak will fall” he shouted. “No longer shall he be a threat to our people! For the Vigil, and the Pale Tree!”

The roar of the Vigil soldiers rung out over the clearing as Gwyleon withdrew his greatsword. They followed him as he charged towards the settlement where the undead swarmed. The sounds of battle made his heartbeat pulse wildly in his ears as he cut down the risen minions Mazdak had summoned. Once the gate had been captured, they moved the courtyard which held heaps of risen minions. The pestilence in the air clung to Gwyleon’s leaves as the Vigil soldiers overran the thralls within the Settlement.

Caithe had gone to help a group of Vigil soldiers battle a horde of abominations while Trahearne remained near Gwyleon.

With every risen corpse that fell, he could feel himself unconsciously collecting the lingering life force. The feeling of Zhaitan was ever present as the corrupted magic fueled his shroud.

“The town is ours! Mazdak is vulnerable. Come, scouts have spotted him on the hill near the northern graveyard tower” Branthyn shouted to Gwyleon, Trahearne, and Caithe.

“Mazdak is near - I can feel it. If Branthyn's scouts tell it true, he'll be looking to replenish his forces from Ascalon Settlement's graveyard” Trahearne affirmed.

“Then we will find him and destroy him!” Gwyleon gripped Caladbolg tighter as the pair made their way to the tower that overlooked the graveyard.

Mazdak’s dark aura was thick and overbearing when Trahearne and Gwyleon approached him. The lich was draped in shadowy robes and his face was that of a warped skull. Glowing green eyelights pierced deeply into Gwyleon’s heart.

“Pathetic little adventurers. You think to avenge your dead kinsman? You will fall, as he did.” Mazdak’s voice was warped and distorted by Zhaitan’s magic.

“I’ll gladly rip your soul from your mangled corpse if it means you won’t harm another one of my people!” Gwyleon shouted.

The lich hissed in defiance as Gwyleon charged for him. Caladbolg almost had a mind of its own as he swung the sword at Mazdak’s head.

“Watch out!” Trahearne shouted.

Within a blink of an eye, Mazdak had teleported away, a dark misty essence was left where he once floated.

Gwyleon’s teeth gritted in annoyance. With a swift movement he drew power into Caladbolg and released a powerful white-hot mass of magic towards Mazdak.

The lich screeched in agony as the magic electrified him. Within this brief moment, Gwyleon charged towards Mazdak once more and sliced through his arm.

The amputated limb burst into white flames and sizzled into nothingness.

“The touch of that sword is like fire! This cannot be!” Mazdak hissed as he gripped his shoulder which leaked a black liquid where his arm once was.

“Oh, but it can” Gwyleon grinned toothily as he ripped the sword through Mazdak’s body which split in two and alighted with white fire.

With an ear-splitting screech, the essence of the lich floated into the sky; leaving a bright green bubble of life force which Gwyleon snatched eagerly.

“No! Don’t!” Trahearne shouted and ran towards Gwyleon in panic.

A putrid feeling coursed through Gwyleon as the life force seeped into him. A splitting pain coursed through his head as his shade screamed in agony within him and rejected the life force. Gwyleon fell to his knees as the life force of Mazdak seeped from his fingertips and disappeared.

“Wha…” Gwyleon trailed off as he stared at his hands. Caladbolg lay next to him, shining with a beautiful golden glow.

“It seems that your shroud recognized the corrupted essence of the lich and rejected it” Trahearne said thoughtfully. “I admit, I haven’t witnessed this happen before”

Gwyleon lifted himself to his feet and turned to face Trahearne “I have never felt so… Disgusting before.”

“Necromancers - like you and I - are able to seal the life force from our enemies to fuel our powers. However, the essence of a lich is that of a person who has been so corrupted by Zhaitan that they have lost their physical form” Trahearne explained. “You are lucky that your shroud protected you, otherwise you would have been corrupted by the magic and gone insane like those before you.”

“I… I did not know” Gwyleon stuttered.

“Such knowledge about your powers will come in time. What matters most is that you have learned to make your decisions carefully. It seems I have nothing left to teach you” Trahearne said softly as he smiled at Gwyleon.

Gwyleon’s cheeks flushed a dark green as he averted his eyes “Thank you Trahearne, for everything you’ve taught me. With your aid we have finally felled Mazdak and avenged Riannoc.”

Trahearne’s golden eyes stared at the sky “Yes, at last, Riannoc is avenged. This day will live forever within the Dream.”

“Well done, Recruit!” Branthyn called as she charged up to the two Sylvari “You really proved your strength and honor on the field this day.”

“Thank you, Branthyn. Mazdak is no more.”

“You should head to Lion's Arch, and receive your first formal assignment. It's time to send you out into the field” she balled her hand into a fist and crossed it over her heart in a salute.

“Right, of course” Gwyleon nodded.

“By your leave, my friend” Trahearne interjected as he retrieved Caladbolg “I'll return Caladbolg to the Pale Tree. I'll be sure to tell her the tale of Mazdak's defeat.”

Gwyleon felt a sharp pang of sadness in his heart “Will I see you again, Trahearne?”

Trahearne nodded with a soft smile “Yes. I'm sure of it. Our Wyld Hunts are linked. Gwyleon, know that if you should need me, I will be there. May your path be filled with adventure and joy. Until we meet again.”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted down slightly at the bittersweet comment.

“Until we meet again, Trahearne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I wish that I didn't have to take a break from this slow-ass relationship building but the canon story rules all! Chapters will come out a bit slower now as college courses have begun once more. I'll make sure to update as often as possible though, so be on the lookout!


	7. A New Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon finally joins the Vigil

Gwyleon did not necessarily want to leave the Grove now that he reconciled with Trahearne. Where he once had borderline hated the Firstborn, he now felt admiration and a connection.

He had learned several important lessons from the time he had awoken. He felt that he was more intelligent and ready to face the world by himself.

With a steeled but bittersweet goodbye, Gwyleon departed from the Grove and made his way for Lion’s Arch. It took a few days of relaxed traveling, but he eventually made it to his destination.

Gwyleon’s emerald eyes sparkled in awe as he took in the huge port city. Giant ships were docked in the bay. Salty, but crystaline water sprayed in his face as he walked by. Charr, Human, and Norn workers were laying down planks on top of wooden scaffolding. Blueprints that lay on the ground nearby told him that these buildings would soon be living spaces for traders and pirates that visited the city.

Near the docks was a huge stone circle. A glorious golden lion statue residing in the middle. The lion was posed as if it was about to pounce on something. Surrounding the lion statue were smaller fish statues that sprayed water over the globe-like structure that was underneath. The droplets sparkled with rainbows as they jumped into the air.

Jubilant music played from one of the nearby bars as Gwyleon made his way around the city. He cast a sideways glance at the ring of Asura portals that led to different parts of Tyria. It was dusk now, and the portals shined brightly.

“Hurry up!” An angry male Asura shouted at a female Asura. “I haven’t got all day and these portals need constant maintenance!”

“Y-yessir!” the female Asura responded before scuttling away with a clipboard.

Gwyleon shook his head and continued onwards. He was to stay here for a couple days before he was to be summoned to the Vigil station that was in Lion’s Arch; he was definitely going to make the most of his time.

Blue lanterns shone brightly as Gwyleon peeked into a rowdy establishment. It was a bar full of Charr, Norn, and two Sylvari who were idly chatting in the corner about something. Gwyleon blinked curiously as he slowly creaked open the door and slipped inside.

The inside of the establishment was loud and boisterous. Several Charr held mugs of brown liquid - presumably ale - which sloshed around and spilled onto the floor with their constant drunken swaying. Huge chunks of meat which were still on the bone were on racks next to a cozy fireplace.

Gwyleon flinched as a gloved hand gripped his shoulder.

“Hey there Sylvari” Gwyleon looked behind him and stood face to face with a massive Charr whose sharp claws rested on his shoulder.

Upon further inspection, he noticed that the Charr wore snow-white fur which was dappled with brown spots. The Charr’s horns had seemingly been cut off at some point and ended halfway down the curve abruptly. His right arm held two steins of ale. Gwyleon couldn’t help but stare as he noticed the mangled paw was just barely able to hold the cups. While he did have large teeth, there was a soft, drunken smile that Gwyleon could see resting on his muzzle. A large red robe covered his shoulders and draped over his arms. A golden brooch pinned a light crimson cloak to his shoulders.

“Um.. Hello? I do not believe we’ve met” He half greeted and half questioned as he lifted the Charr’s paw off gingerly his shoulder.

“Ah!” The Charr’s tail flicked back and forth. “The name is Tybalt Leftpaw, or Tybalt for short. I could have sworn that I recognize you from somewhere” Tybalt brought a long claw to his muzzle and scratched his chin.

“Perhaps” Gwyleon shrugged “I’ve never been here before though”

“Well, in that case” Tybalt shoved a full stein into Gwyleon’s chest “Better give you a traditional greeting. Drink up! It’s my favorite apple ale” Tybalt winked.

Gwyleon huffed as he wrapped his hands around the massive cup. He stared a the liquid suspiciously for a moment.

“I mean.. I really don’t-”

“Nonsense! Don’t be such a stick in the mud - no pun intended. My treat!” Tybalt pressed as he sat down in a chair.

Gwyleon’s eyebrows furrowed, but nonetheless, he tipped the stein over into his mouth and gulped down the apple ale reluctantly.

“I actually prefer to eat fresh apples, but this is fine too” Tybalt explained as he motioned to the waiter to bring another round. “Whoops! I forgot to ask your name.”

“Gwyleon” he coughed as he grabbed a chair and set the empty stein on the table. He couldn’t exactly taste these apples that Tybalt said were in the ale. He did however taste something that was entirely different when compared to the nectar that the taverns in the Grove served.

A very dapper Norn dressed in a brown suit-like garb set down two more steins on the table that Tybalt and Gwyleon were sitting at. He didn’t neglect to swipe the empty mugs before shuffling off to another part of the bar.

“I have to say” Gwyleon took the full mug and shished it around “This is definitely more lively than the taverns at the Grove. I actually enjoy this a bit.”

“I’m glad you do” Tybalt took a swig of his apple ale “Now tell me, Gwyleon, why are you here all the way in Lion’s Arch? Not that you have to tell me, just curious.”

“Ah.. Well..” Gwyleon gulped down his ale eagerly before continuing “I was sent here to meet with my mentor from the Vigil. I’ve been through such a mess with each order representative, they might as well have argued my ears off” he mumbled.

Tybalt’s blue eyes watched Gwyleon curiously “Is that so? Too bad you didn’t join the Order of Whispers. I hear they’re very good at getting information that the other orders can’t get their hands on.”

“Indeed” Gwyleon met Tybalt’s gaze evenly “I chose the Vigil because I’m a fighter. I’m not a scholar and I’m not a thief. I want to make a difference in the world. My Wyld Hunt demands it.”

“Wyld Hunt? I’ve heard that somewhere, but I forget what it means” Tybalt gestured to the waiter once more who brought over another mug for Gwyleon.

“Some Sylvari have a… Calling. My calling is to destroy the Elder Dragon, Zhaitan” he proudly declared. He noticed a fuzzy feeling was beginning muddle his thoughts.

“What about you?” Gwyleon questioned as he grabbed his third mug.

“Gah, I’m just an old Iron Legion reject” Tybalt waved his mangled paw in the air. “Can’t work with machines with an injury like this. Now I sell apples at the Lion’s Arch courtyard.”

“Apples, Eh? First the apple ale and now the selling apples. I think you might have an obsession, Tybalt” Gwyleon smiled and took a swig out of his mug.

“Obsession? I am merely an apple connoisseur. I am sure the likes of you wouldn’t know a good apple if it fell on your head” Tybalt turned his nose into the air.

“Haha! You’re probably right.”

Silly was probably the best word for what Gwyleon felt at the moment. The bar was gradually feeling warm and homey as he drank more ale. He had never experienced the feeling of being drunk before, but he could definitely get used to it.

The rest of the night was filled with jokes and stories as the bar atmosphere lulled Gwyleon into a relaxed state. He had met two other Sylvari who looked at him with puzzled expressions when he happily acted as if he knew them personally. His usual stoic facade had been shattered by the effects of alcohol.

It was late into the night when he promised Tybalt that they would talk again soon. He exited the bar in his drunken stupor shortly after chugging two more cups of ale.

The path before him contorted and spun in weird directions as he walked towards an inn where he was to wait until he received a letter from the Vigil requesting his presence.

Gwyleon held his leafy knapsack straps tightly as he rested his back on a marble pillar. His green gaze studied the glittering night sky as he thought back to the Grove and to Trahearne, who had likely already departed for Orr once again. Was the Firstborn ever scared? Was he ever lonely? He wondered. Surely there was the fear of never coming back home whenever Trahearne left for the forsaken wasteland. The thought made sadness pierce his heart.

‘Our Wyld Hunts are linked, we will see each other again…’ he thought.

Gwyleon heaved a heavy sigh. With steeled resolve, he stumbled his way to the inn.

\---

Tap tap tap…

Gwyleon groaned as the light of a new day poured in from the glass window of his inn room.

Tap tap tap…

His eyes cracked open and he flinched as the light made a searing pain run through his head. “Ow ow ow!” he growled as he shut his eyes tightly again.

Tap tap tap…

The sound made Gwyleon open one eye. A small white bird with a small piece of paper in its mouth was tapping on the glass window for who knows how long.

With a grunt Gwyleon lifted himself off the bed and unlatched the window. The little carrier bird hopped onto the window sill and dropped the letter just before fluttering away.

He rubbed his temple as he picked up the letter and read it with squinted eyes.

Valiant,  
Your assistance is needed by the lion statue. I have managed to get the members of Destiny’s Edge to agree to a meeting with me. I’d like you to attend and meet those who once fought with me against Kralkatorrik.

Firstborn Caithe

Gwyleon ran his hand through the mess of vibrant green leaves on top of his head when he finished reading the letter Caithe had sent to him. He recalled the stories of Destiny’s Edge well, but meeting them was definitely going to be interesting.

With a swift movement he swiped his knapsack and departed for the center of Lion’s Arch.

\---

When Gwyleon arrived at the lion statue, Caithe was waiting nearby, her foot tapping impatiently on the ground. He could see a Norn woman with bright red braided hair that he assumed was Eir, the leader of Destiny’s Edge. Her blue tattoos and incredibly commanding presence confirmed his suspicion. Her armour was of Norn craftsmanship and looked incredibly sturdy. A large black wolf sat nearby in silence as it waited for a command from its master.

“Ah, Valiant!” Caithe beckoned to Gwyleon.

“This is Eir, she was the leader of our guild, Destiny’s Edge.”

Gwyleon bowed in greeting “Good to meet you, I’m Gwyleon.”

“I have heard much about you in this short time of speaking with Caithe. I fear that this meeting may get a little hectic, but don’t let that deter you” Eir said in a calm voice.

Gwyleon was about to speak when a huge brown Charr with a red buzzed mane emerged from one of the Asura gates. He could tell from the High Legion-fashioned silver armour that this was the Blood Legion Tribune, Rytlock Brimstone. Gwyleon could see a flaming sword at his waist and sharp pointed teeth lining his muzzle.

The next member to appear was Logan Thackeray, a Human who served as the leader of the Seraph - a Human army that kept peace in central Kryta. His brown hair was resting lightly on his shoulders which were protected by brilliant silver pauldrons. A white cloth with golden accents ran over the breastplate.

The last member of Destiny’s Edge emerged from a gate close by. A very easily angered Zojja approached the group. She was about half of Gwyleon’s height and was was dressed in a blue robe with golden accents on it. Asura magitech covered her right arm and gave off a soft blue glow. Gwyleon didn’t miss the repulsed expression on her face when she spotted Eir next to Caithe.

The group of warriors gathered in a circle next to him, Caithe, and Eir. Various expressions of disgust and anger were all that Gwyleon could read. The atmosphere was definitely uncomfortable even for a Necromancer like himself.

“Welcome, fellow members of Destiny's Edge. We must speak of the threat of the Elder Dragons” Caithe addressed the group, her voice unwavering.

“When I agreed to come, I didn't know you'd be inviting this CHARR” Logan Thackeray spat immediately.

Rytlock Brimstone scoffed “I could say the same for YOU, Human. Finally crawling back for forgiveness, Logan?”

“I've done nothing that needs to be forgiven.”

Eir rubbed her face “Logan! Rytlock! Enough of your squabbling. Caithe, I doubt that we can unite again. Not after our last mistake. I wanted to help you possibly reunite us, but this guild may be too broken to mend.”

Zojja bared her sharp teeth angrily “The Norn's right. When Eir Stegalkin makes mistakes, people die.”

“Is that what you think, Zojja?” Eir questioned defiantly “That what happened was my fault?”

“Hey!” Caithe shouted impatiently. The group looked at her collectively. “Please, all of you. Our time has come. We must help the orders. We've fought the Elder Dragons before. Tyria calls for our aid once more and it is our duty to help.”

“And lost. because SOMEONE couldn't keep up with us” Rytlock growled deeply.

“You have something to say, say it to my face!” Logan shouted as he stepped towards Rytlock.

Rytlock scoffed and looked down at Logan “I would, if you weren't always running away! I should gut you and be done with it!”

Gwyleon failed at stifling his chuckle at Rytlock’s words. Logan shot him a venomous glare in response, but ultimately turned his fury back at Rytlock.

“Gut me? With what? That Human-made sword you looted from Ascalon? I've had enough! We're done here” With that, Logan turned away and started walking towards the portal that likely led to Divinity’s Reach.

“Running away again?” Rytlock snickered.

“Rytlock!” Eir chided “You're just making it worse!”

Zojja pointed a clawed finger at Eir, her silver eyes shining defiantly “Hah! Look who's talking. Logan's right, for once. I have more important things to do. I'm done with this.”

Rytlock shrugged “And I refuse to waste my efforts on cowards and fools. Good-bye, Caithe.”

The two ex-members both turned towards their respective portals after their angry exchange. Gwyleon could only look on in dismay. How could these people let their petty arguments overpower the fact that Zhaitan was right on their doorstep? Were they daft? Anger boiled in his chest.

“It's sad to see Logan and Rytlock argue. If only there was something to bond them together…” Eir pondered for a minute before her eyes lit up “Yes, I know what might help. Caithe, I have to leave as well. I fear this meeting was a mistake, but maybe I can fix it.”

The Norn woman didn’t allow a response before she beckoned to her wolf and departed through the portal.

Caithe’s expression became somber as she watched what were once her friends make their separate ways. “We've failed, then. Failed to bring Destiny's Edge back together… If we cannot help the others. How can we help Tyria?” she mumbled as she stared at the ground.

Gwyleon huffed as he crossed his arms “Honestly, I am the last person who should be telling you this, but I can tell that their grief and anger muddles their sense of reason. You aren’t alone, Caithe, we will put a stop to the dragon’s corruption with or without Destiny’s Edge.”

Caithe looked up at Gwyleon, a mixture of surprise and understanding in her gaze. “Not alone... Right… I’ll hold on to that idea. We will meet again soon, I’m sure. For now, I must bid you farewell. I wish you luck on your journey.”

Gwyleon watched as Caithe disappeared into a portal that likely led to the Grove. His eyes wandered on the portal longingly for a moment before he turned away. When he recalled the conversation between Destiny’s Edge, it felt almost like a mirror speaking back to him. Not long ago, his sense of reason was altered by his constant desire to prove that he was better.

He shifted his knapsack as he began walking towards the huge lion statue. He gazed at it for a moment before he sat on the stone lip that prevented the water from spilling out of the center of the monument. The sound of running water would help to clear his mind some.

Across the clearing he spotted Tybalt at a small apple stand. Gwyleon blinked curiously as he noticed an incredibly small Skritt and Asura tug at Tybalt’s tail and point at the apples. Tybalt gave a soft smile before he picked up two apples and handed them to the children.

Gwyleon smiled warmly and his eyes wandered the clearing once more. His distracted mind was brought back to the world when a large cream-colored Charr armoured in Vigil gear approached him.

“You look like the sort that's got their claws sunk deep in the haunches of life. Whatcha’ doing sitting around here?” the Charr questioned curiously.

“Oh” Gwyleon cleared his throat “Nothing, just watching the bustle of the city. What are you doing out here, crusader?”

“I'm here on leave. I'm usually stationed on Claw Island as an adjunct to the Lionguard. I was called back to Lion's Arch to deal with a personal matter” the crusader shrugged. Clearly he was bored since he was wasting time talking to Gwyleon.

“Claw Island?” Gwyleon asked “Never heard of it.”

“You must be new to Lion's Arch. Claw Island is the Lionguard's outer defense post. It's well-armed and heavily fortified. The Lionguard stationed there guard the bay into the city.”

“I see… But aren’t you in the Vigil? Why would you be with the Lionguard?”

“I'm the Vigil liaison for the Lionguard inspectors. I keep the Vigil informed of the status of defenses there, and gather intelligence about any Orrian movement” The Charr explained.

“Ah, well, I’ll let you return to your duties then. Good talking with you” Gwyleon smiled.

\---

The next day, Gwyleon was writing in a small leaf-bound journal on his cotton bed. His feet were folded beneath him and his knapsack sat on the floor. His ears were tilted forward in extreme focus as his feather quill made scratch marks on the paper. His penmanship was… Sad, to say the least, but he could read it, that was all that mattered.

‘The remaining members of Destiny's Edge met—and it was explosive. The death of their compatriot, Snaff, caused some real rifts in the guild. It will take a lot to mend those friendships.’

After his experience with the members of Destiny’s Edge, he had decided that keeping a journal of his activities may prove exciting to read again someday. He closed the book with a soft thumping sound and returned it to his knapsack before he heard a familiar tapping on the glass window.

A familiar bird offered him a letter in its small hickory-colored beak before it dashed away into the city once more. Gwyleon unfolded and began reading the letter eagerly.

  
Recruit,

General Almorra Soulkeeper has issued orders to rendezvous at the Vigil Headquarters in Lion's Arch. There, I'll brief you on the directives for your first mission: assisting me with a difficulty at the fortress of Ebonhawke. The General's taken personal interest in you. I trust you'll live up to her expectations.

Welcome to the Vigil.  
Warmaster Forgal Kernsson

  
Giddiness washed over Gwyleon as he folded up the letter and shoved it in his pack. With a brisk movement he grabbed one of the vine straps and finally was on his way to the Vigil Headquarters in the city.

\---

The Vigil Headquarters in Lion’s Arch was titled Fort Marriner. It was an incredibly well-fortified castle like structure filled to the brim with Vigil crusaders and officers. There was a large Sylvari presence among the Vigil soldiers that were around the keep; likely those who had awoken recently whose Wyld Hunts called for them to make a difference in the world. Albeit, he had also seen plenty of the other major races among the soldiers who were sparring and reading battle plans together. A strong sense of unity filled his heart as he watched them.

Gwyleon didn’t exactly know where to go specifically, just that he was supposed to go to Fort Marriner. He was walking around the clearing when he heard some lingering conversation coming from a nearby officer tent.

“Thank you for the warning, General Soulkeeper. I will make sure Queen Jennah receives your news, but I cannot make any promises. The Ebonhawke treaty is Kryta's only hope for peace with the Charr. We cannot withdraw our negotiators, no matter the risk.”

Gwyleon peered into the tent and noticed a group of very high-ranking officers. A relatively older female Charr was being addressed by a Human dressed in Seraph armour. There was also a huge Norn adorned in ornate gold and silver armour with snow white hair standing behind her. His eyes were a cold pink and his face was incredibly stern. There was also a small Asura and a brown-tinted Sylvari with thorny hair standing nearby.

“With all due respect, Ambassador, that's a damn fool decision.” The Norn snorted indignantly.

But the Charr leader silenced him with a wave of her claws “That's enough, Warmaster.”

Her yellow gaze shifted back to the Human brigade “Thank you, Lady Versa. The Vigil will do our best to keep everyone safe.”

Gwyleon stared curiously as the group of Seraph bowed to the Charr and departed from the tent. At their leave, he cautiously stepped inside and bowed as they had done.

The Charr tilted her head slightly when Gwyleon appeared.

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d make your presence known,” The Charr chuckled “Who might you be, soldier?”

“My name is Gwyleon, ma’am. I’m a new recruit reporting for duty.”

“I see.. My name is Almorra Soulkeeper. I founded this order. I'm its general, until I die in battle or they find someone better. First, I’ll give you the same speal we give to all new recruits.” Almorra crossed her arms and stared blankly at Gwyleon.

“Six years ago, a dragon rose in Ascalon by the name of Kralkatorrik. It flew south, killing and corrupting everything in its path. I stood beneath the dragon as it passed overhead. I survived where others did not. All across Tyria, I found others who told of destruction caused by the dragons. Humans and Sylvari, battling undead that swarmed their shores. Asura, driven from their underground cities. Joining together, we gave birth to a mighty organization: the Vigil. We're proud that you have chosen to serve alongside us.” Almorra’s yellow gaze shined brightly.

“Your mentor will be Forgal, one of our finest soldiers, and the most stalwart Norn I know.” She gestured towards the huge Norn who looked at Gwyleon with unamused eyes. “He'll teach you to fight with the Vigil. This order was created to fight the dragons. To destroy them before they destroy us. Some must fight, so that all may be free… With this, I welcome you to the Vigil.”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted down slightly as he met Forgal’s gaze. He was expecting someone… More like him to be his mentor, but he would do his best regardless.

Almorra grabbed some papers off of a nearby table and studied them for a moment “Your representative sent me a letter saying that you were the best they'd ever seen. I look forward to seeing you prove that.”

Gwyleon’s raised his fist and brought it to his chest. “I’ll do my best, General. I am dedicated to destroying every single dragon in my path. Just show me where to fight.”

“Hah!” Almorra smiled toothily “I like you already!”

“Now, to business” her smile was gone almost as soon as it arrived “Charr Renegades are threatening the treaty negotiations between Kryta and the Iron Legion. The Vigil needs to ensure that the treaty goes through. Those two nations need to be fighting the dragons, not each other. You and Forgal will be dealing with Commander Samuelsson, leader of the Ebon Vanguard and avid treaty supporter. Head to Ebonhawke, and stop those Renegades” She ordered.

“Yes, General!” Gwyleon accepted.

Almorra smiled once more and then noticed the unsure gaze of Forgal resting on her. “I believe that Forgal wishes to speak with you briefly. After your talk, you should be off” with a flick of her cream-colored tail, she padded away.

Gwyleon studied Forgal’s cold salmon-colored eyes intently for a moment once Almorra and the other officers had left the tent.

Forgal’s gloved hand rested on his chin which was hidden by a long white beard “A Sylvari eh? You seem mighty soft for the Vigil, Recruit. Still, if you're willing to work hard, you might pass muster.”

Gwyleon’s eyes narrowed for a moment as his mind ran over the words. He was about to respond with something out of line, but the memory of Trahearne’s lesson calmed him.

“Don't worry, Warmaster. I want to fight, and I'm willing to prove myself” He said instead.

Forgal’s brows knitted together for a split second, but then his features softened a bit “Huh. You've got the right attitude, even if you are green. Keep your mind keen, and your eyes open. Come now, we have a lot of work to do.”

“Of course, sir!”

\---

The stronghold of Ebonhawke has a rich history. It was once a small outpost that was nestled In a corner of the Blazeridge Mountains, just North of the Crystal Desert. This position was of key importance during the Searing of Ascalon.

The Human King Adelbern of Ascalon saw the stronghold as their last defensible position and sent the Ebon Vanguard there just before the event of the Foefire. The stronghold gradually expanded into a large ring of walls and gates and has been continually bombarded by unsuccessful Charr attacks until the peace treaty between the two races.

The stronghold now stands as a defense against a more internal threat. Human Separatists and Charr Renegades who oppose the treaty strive to create chaos from within.

Forgal and Gwyleon had arrived in Ebonhawke through an Asura portal from Divinity’s Reach, the major Human city of Kryta.

What met Gwyleon’s eyes and ears was a slew of burning fires and the sounds of fighting coming from the innards of the stronghold. The scent of smoke burned his nostrils.

“Welcome to Ebonhawke, Recruit. I—by Raven's wings! What in the Mists is happening here?” Forgal exclaimed as an Ebon Vanguard soldier ran up to the pair.

The soldier saluted “It's the Vigil! Thank Balthazar, you're just in time. I'm Samuelsson. Wade Samuelsson, Commander of Ascalon.”

“I'm Warmaster Kernsson, and this is my new recruit. Give me a status report!”

“Here's the problem” Samuelsson crossed his arms. “A bunch of Charr Renegades smuggled explosives into the city. They were trying to blow up one of the outer walls. The Ebon Vanguard stopped the demolition team, but Renegade forces are attacking everywhere from here to the central plaza.”

“That sounds like a blood-covered mess, Commander. How can we help?” Forgal asked.

“We have to get to the city's central plaza. Turn right, head down the road and through the crossing. You'll see a big statue at the center of the square. Once we take the square, the Vanguard can do the rest. But without a rallying point, we're falling apart.”

Gwyleon’s brows knitted in confusion “Who are these Renegades? What do they want with Ebonhawke?”

“They're Charr who disobeyed the orders of the High Legions” Samuelsson explained “these idiots would rather die than make peace with Humans, and because of that, they're dangerous.”

Gwyleon shrugged. He didn’t particularly care about the alliance between the Humans and the Charr, but he needed a bit more information before running into battle with these Renegades.

Forgal nodded “We'll capture the plaza, Commander, and teach a lesson to any Renegades we find along the way. Ready, Recruit? Move out!”

Gwyleon did admire the commanding tone that Forgal had, as well as his eagerness to head into battle. Perhaps, he figured, he might end up liking this old Norn.

The Charr Renegades that they had cleaved through were barely armed. They wielded dull swords and axes that would really only be able to injure the most inattentive fighter. The only thing that they had going for them was that there were a lot of them. He didn’t know where all these Charr had come from, but it seemed like they had been massing for this attack for quite some time.

Nonetheless, Gwyleon found no issue slicing into them with his greatsword compared to any other enemy. If anything, the life force he collected from the Charr was far more appealing than that of the life force he collected from the risen.

As Forgal and Gwyleon reached the center of the stronghold, the Ebon Vanguard soldiers spread out to the corners to take care of any remaining Renegades. Gwyleon silently wondered how these soldiers were able to defend the keep from years of attacks and now somehow were beaten by some half-armed Renegades.

Commander Samuelsson approached the two Vigil soldiers after the battle had been won “Your timing was perfect, Warmaster Kernsson. I can't thank you enough.”

Gwyleon’s ear twitched in annoyance. Did he even exist?

The commander didn’t register Gwyleon’s expression “The Renegades are getting bolder. This is the first time they've ever tried to bomb the fortress from the inside.”

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before hand…’

“New tactics may signify a new leader. You think they finally found a shot-caller with half a brain?” Forgal asked with an amused tone.

“Think it? I know it” Samuelsson rubbed his chin “He's a charr named Ajax Anvilburn, and that rotter's a thorn in my side.”

Gwyleon tapped his foot impatiently “Do you know anything about Anvilburn? Some way we could track him down and stop him?”

Samuelsson looked at Gwyleon as if he had just noticed the Sylvari’s presence “Scouts tell us the Renegades have a camp outside Ebonhawke, but my troops are tied up defending the treaty location. The Ebon Vanguard hasn't had a chance to check it, but if I had to guess, I'd say he's either there or his soldiers are.”

“We'll take a look, Commander. Ill-disciplined thugs like these should be easy to find” Forgal responded.

Forgal beckoned to Gwyleon as he walked towards the entrance to Ebonhawke. Gwyleon cast one last glance towards the stronghold and followed his mentor.

“My apologies” Gwyleon sighed “That commander acted like I didn’t even exist.”

“In due time, Recruit. These soldiers are like sheep, they do as they’re told and only care about those who look superior to them” Forgal explained. “Do well to remember this, and don’t take it personally.”

Forgal’s response surprised Gwyleon a bit, he had expected something more cold and condescending. “I… Of course, right” he stuttered.

The night sky glittered with thousands of stars as Forgal and Gwyleon departed from Ebonhawke. Just Northeast of the stronghold, they could see several dark tents and the soft light of dying fires in the distance.

Forgal made a disgusted face when he saw the obviously unguarded Charr. “Hey there, kid. Remember to bring your weapon?”

Gwyleon wrinkled his nose “I am ready to fight at any time… And don’t call me kid” he mumbled the last part.

Forgal’s dull pink eyes stared at Gwyleon for a moment “Haha! Got some spark in you, eh, Recruit? Good to see. We'll need it if we're gonna stamp out these Renegades. Get ready to move, and keep your voice low. If we're lucky, we can catch these bootjacks sleeping.”

“What kind of idiots would be sleeping in the middle of a raid?”

“You never know what kind of louts you’ll find” Forgal shrugged “Still, try to take prisoners if you can. We'll need them to give us information if Anvilburn isn't there.”

“So, what?” Gwyleon asked “we just run in there and yell, "Hello, bad guys, surrender or die"?”

Forgal’s eyes squinted “Look here, whelp. There's a time for strategy, and there's a time for kicking the door down. We don't need tactics against this rabble. We just need force.”

Gwyleon chucked a bit at that. He felt almost as if he was talking to himself for a moment. He was definitely beginning to like this Norn.

“Yes, Warmaster.”

Forgal nodded “Right, then. Don't worry about "hello," just skip straight to "surrender or die." Now move out.”

When the two descended down the hill towards the camp, there was only the sound of small crackling fires and soft snoring coming from several Renegades that were sleeping around the pits.

Gwyleon was… Dumbfounded to say the least. How in the world had the Ebon Vanguard somehow almost lost their stronghold to these furballs?

“By the Spirits, is this some kinda kiddie playground? Wake up out there!” Forgal roared as he picked up a branch and lit it aflame. With a mighty toss, he threw the torch at one of the tents and set it ablaze.

Several Charr fled from the tents, their tails between their legs as they tried to put out their singed fur. “It’s the Vigil! Get them!” one of the Charr called out.

Gwyleon withdrew his sword and swiftly sliced through one of the Renegades. He scoffed at how weak they were. They were no match for the two Vigil soldiers as they cut through the group and exposed their leader. Unfortunately, it was not Ajax Anvilburn.

Forgal pointed his axe at the Charr leader “You're the worst-trained, most cowardly loustabouts I've ever seen! Whomever trained you must be crying right now!”

With a furious roar, the leader threw himself towards Forgal. The Norn narrowed his eyes and stomped his foot squarely in the Charr’s chest, sending him reeling backwards. Gwyleon saw his chance and thrust the tip of his sword deep into the base of the Charr’s tail, pinning him to the ground.

“Aieee!” the Charr screeched “I yield! I yield! You fight well! Just take it out of my tail, please!” he begged as Gwyleon gripped his sword handle tighter.

“You shuck-brained cur!” Forgal spat “Where's Ajax Anvilburn? We know he's behind the attack on Ebonhawke. Spill!”

“Y-you just missed him. He left this morning. He's on his way to kill some worthless Human named Duran. They're settin' an ambush at Summit Peak. They'll kill Duran, then leave the bloody knife with ol' Steelcrusher. We're killing two peace-lovers with one trap!” he hissed.

“Ashes and snow” Forgal cursed “he means Minster Kent Duran, the Krytan ambassador. I bet Steelcrusher's the ambassador for the High Legions!”

“You're Vigil, aren't you? Ha! Ajax'll be sorry he missed killing you. Tell his human-loving mother, Almorra, that one day we'll spit on her grave!” the Charr spat on the ground.

Gwyleon twisted his blade back and forth “You sure are talkative for someone so deep in their grave.”

“Pah! Leave this coward to rot and die alone. We have to go to Summit Peak and make sure the ambassadors are warned” Forgal said.

“No, no! Don’t kill me!” the Charr begged “I'll change my ways. I'll go back to the Legions. You won't see me again!”

“Nah” Gwyleon sneered “Trust someone like you? I don’t think so. This is your last breath.”

The Charr’s eyes grew wide in fear as Gwyleon pulled the sword from his tail and sweeped the blade across the Renegade’s neck. Red droplets splattered onto the soil as the body fell limp. The Renegade jerked as Gwyleon pulled the life force from it with a pull of his hand. The small green orb floated in the air and disappeared into his hand.

“By raven’s wings, Recruit.”

“What?” Gwyleon tilted his head.

“I forget sometimes how Necromancers work. Their way of gaining power is both intriguing and sickening” Forgal explained.

“Heh” Gwyleon chuckled “Don’t worry, Forgal, I’m on your side.”

Forgal rolled his eyes “Enough of this nonsense, Recruit. Come, we still have work to do.”

Further down the road, there was a lone Ebon Vanguard soldier walking towards the Summit. Her eyes flickered towards Gwyleon and Forgal as they approached.

“Who are you people?” the soldier asked “Commander Samuelsson didn't mention an escort, and you certainly don't look like the Vanguard!”

Gwyleon understood the initial mistrust “We're with the Vigil. We know about the attack planned for Minister Duran. We're here to make sure you reach him in time.”

The soldier scoffed “An escort? I'm Sergeant Eilye Jeyne, a soldier of the Ebon Vanguard. I don't need babysitters.”

“We're not babysitters, we're tourists. Traveling the same road, taking in the same scenery, and beating the ever-living crap out of the same idiots as you” Forgal crossed his arms.

“I have to get this message to the minister. I don't have time for this. Just keep up, or I leave you behind. Head out for Summit Peak, and don't slow down” Jeyne commanded.

Gwyleon rolled his eyes, she would probably be the one keeping up with them, but she could think whatever she wanted.

The road was indeed filled with ambushes from the Renegades, but Gwyleon and Forgal cut through them with ease. The Charr had even gotten two ogres to fight for them somehow.

Ahead at a cut in the road, Gwyleon spotted what looked like another Vanguard soldier lying in the dirt. She was breathing, but just barely.

“I see a survivor. Stand the line, we have to help her!” Forgal exclaimed.

“No, we can't risk it! If the ambassador is killed, many more lives will be lost.” Jayne retorted.

Forgal growled angrily “You'd abandon your own soldiers?”

Gwyleon recalled Trahearne’s words in his mind, “All life is precious”. Trahearne had cared for a small, injured Skritt at one time even though others were possibly in danger. The difference was that now, he understood the words.

“We all knew the risk when we joined the Vanguard” Jayne insisted “Duty first.”

He stared onwards for a brief moment before he walked over and hauled the unconscious body onto his shoulder. He didn’t speak, but he could feel Forgal’s surprised gaze burning into his back.

Upon their arrival to the summit camp, Sergeant Jayne rushed over to the two ambassadors. One was an old, but likely very wise Charr, and the other was a Human with short brown hair.

“Minister Duran! Sir! Please, it's critical that you hear this. Commander Samuelsson sent me from Ebonhawke. You're both in terrible danger!” Jayne pleaded.

Minister Duran’s eyebrows knitted in confusion “Danger? Slow down, Sergeant. Take a deep breath, and tell me what's going on.”

“Ajax Anvilburn and his Renegades are going to ambush you. They plan to assassinate Minister Duran and blame the attack on Ambassador Steelcrusher” Jayne explained.

The Charr Ambassador Steelcrusher chuckled “Well, we can’t let that happen, can we. Duran, can you fight?”

“Not as well as a Charr, but I can hold my own” Duran said. “We could take cover at Summit Peak up ahead. Having the high ground would be in our favor. The camp is a defensible location, If the Renegades don't know we're prepared, we could turn the tables on them when they attack.”

Steelcrusher shook his head “With all due respect, Minister, the best defense is usually a good offense. I recommend we find the traitor's base and destroy Ajax before he can strike.”

Gwyleon took their moment of discussion to lay the unconscious soldier he had picked up on a small wooly cot. He quickly beckoned a healer to come and care for the injured woman. He heaved a heavy sigh as he turned away and headed back towards his mentor.

‘Compassion can be learned…’ he thought.

Sergeant Jayne broke into the conversation when Gwyleon arrived “The Vigil were the ones to uncover this plot. With due respect, sirs, I think we should let them decide if we choose ambush or assault.”

“If you insist. Recruit, I think this particular decision would be best decided by you.” Gwyleon looked up at his mentor and caught the slightest hint of a smile.

Gwyleon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Recognition and trust?

He sucked in a deep breath and looked at Ambassador Steelcrusher “Can you tell me more about your plan?”

“We - as in the High Legions, know Ajax's camp is in the Thunderbreak Hills. If we surprise him there, we can end this without risking the peace talks” Steelcrusher explained.

Gwyleon nodded and then turned towards Ambassador Duran “And you?”

“I believe that we should take the route of defense. There are 3 clear entrances to this camp, they would be easily defendable with the soldiers we have here” Duran offered.

Gwyleon pondered his options for a moment. He wanted to make a statement with this fight, a statement that would threaten all leftover Renegades that they cannot stop peace. He figured that Steelcrusher’s plan would be the most successful in achieving that result. There was also the fact that the Ebon Vanguard soldiers had already lost once to the Renegades, he had a slight distrust in their ability to fight a defensive battle.

“Well” Gwyleon began “I think it’d be best to instill fear in these Renegades that will continue for generations. To achieve this, it’d be best to attack them head-on and destroy whatever hope they had of fighting.

Forgal nodded “Spoken like a true soldier. We will attack them where they least expect it and crush them into the dirt.”

Steelcrusher smiled “We'll head for the Renegade's Camp, and attack with all the force we can muster. Good Choice, Recruit.”

Gwyleon smiled. Perhaps the advice Trahearne gave him would be of use.

The Ebon Vanguard had tracked the Renegades all the way to a cave which was South of the delegation camp. Unfortunately, the Charr who were holed up in the cave had reinforced themselves with cannons pointed towards the entrance.

“For the love of—Recruit! Talk some sense into this woman! She's more stubborn than a goat shaman!” Forgal’s irritated voice reached Gwyleon’s ears.

“Forgal, these are Renegades” Jeyne said in an unamused tone “They're nothing but an unruly mob, and they're trapped in a cave with only one exit. If you seriously think this'll be a fight, then maybe you should start thinking about retiring, old man.”

“Watch it, soldier, or I'll "old man" you into the ground” Forgal threatened as he pointed his gloved hand at Jeyne. “Those are unruly Renegades, but they’re also Charr, and they know we're coming. They've chosen a defensible point, and they've have had time time to fortify. If you go in recklessly, you're just going to die.”

Gwyleon nodded and then smiled “A wise old man taught me there's a time for strategy, and there's a time for kicking the door down. I'd listen to him if I were you, Jeyne.”

“Looks like you learn quick, Recruit. Good.” Forgal put his hands on his hips “Now listen here, Sergeant. We're going to stick together as a unit so we aren't picked off one by one. We go in slow and careful, and watch out for surprises. Recruit, I'm putting you on point. Tell me when you're ready to advance.”

Gwyleon nodded “I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve that’ll get us past those cannons without an issue. Come, follow me.”

When they approached the cave, several cannons went off with a loud explosion. The cannonballs blasted through a group of Ebon Vanguard soldiers who had strayed too far from the main force.

“They’ve got cannons!” Forgal shouted “Storm the line!”

“Go! Now!” Gwyleon shouted to the soldiers as he withdrew his sword. He rushed forward through the sounds of cannons firing and rammed the blade through a Renegade who was manning one of the weapons. The sounds of shouting and battle roared in his ears.

Up ahead, there were spiked wooden barricades that guarded the innards of the cave. A line of cannons sat behind the barrier, threatening to turn anyone who dare approach into a pile of flesh.

“Fortify your positions! Don't let them break through!” A Charr who Gwyleon assumed to be Ajax Anvilburn shouted to the Renegades.

‘I have to break through those barriers’ Gwyleon thought.

His eyes flashed bright green as his shroud covered his skin in a thick, dark mist. His scythe was thirsty for flesh.

“Suffer!” Gwyleon shouted as he spun his scythe in a circle. A cold, icy explosion emanated from his body and weakened the barriers which the blade of his scythe then split into splinters of wood.

“Open fire!” Ajax shouted furiously when Gwyleon broke through the barriers “My mother sends assassins!”

“No you don’t!” Gwyleon roared as he reached out towards the group of Charr manning the cannons and ripped their life force from their still live bodies. “Your soul is mine!” he cried as the bodies fell limp the ground.

The life force that he siphoned made an exhilarated rush of energy flow through him. He gripped his scythe tightly in his hands as he stared down Ajax with shining green eyelights.

Ajax stumbled at the sight “Tell Almorra she's a coward who cannot face her own blood in battle. Whipped dogs. I shall never bend my knee! I’d sooner die!”

“I can arrange that” Gwyleon chuckled menacingly. He raised his scythe in the air and brought the blade down upon the Charr leader who then was smashed into tiny pieces of ice. No scream rang out in the clearing.

Gwyleon’s shroud retreated back under his skin and his scythe was replaced with his greatsword once more.

“You were right, Warmaster. The Renegades were ready for us” Jeyne’s voice brought Gwyleon’s mind back to reality.

Forgal laughed heartily “No. They just thought they were ready for us. They couldn't stand against the Vigil.”

“I just don’t understand those Renegades” Gwyleon shook his head “Working against peace is cowardly. We should be working together to fell the dragons, not against each other.”

The Norn shrugged “Some people can't see past their own noses. It's a good thing we can. This treaty will help even the odds against Zhaitan. Count on it. You did well, Recruit. You learn quickly, you adapt, and you know when to put hammer to steel. I wasn't sure I'd like you when we started this operation.”

Gwyleon blinked at the complement in surprise.

Forgal paused and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment “Almorra kinda twisted my arm to take you on. Said you were special. But damned if you didn't live up to every word she said. You aren't like the rest of these young'uns hanging around the order. I'm field-promoting you to crusader... but don't let it go to your head.

Gwyleon’s lips curled into a smile, finally, he was starting to be trusted and rewarded for his efforts. “I promise I won’t, old man. I am happy that you are my mentor.”

Forgal chuckled “Old man, huh? Don’t push your luck. What I mean is, I think you’re finally becoming worthy of the order.”

“Keep that up, Forgal, and people might think that we’re actually friends” Gwyleon laughed.

“Don’t get cheeky with me, Crusader! What I mean is... “ Forgal looked away “Good work.”

“Thank you, Forgal.”

\---

It wasn’t long before they arrived back at Lion’s Arch that General Almorra Soulkeeper had summoned him and Forgal to her quarters.

“Well done, recruit. You saved the treaty between Kryta and the Iron Legion” Almorra’s tone was both one of surprise and one of gratitude. Nonetheless, it made Gwyleon feel fuzzy.

“I hope that they manage to create a lasting peace. As you said, they should be fighting the dragons, not each other.”

Suddenly, a thought came to Gwyleon’s mind that he hadn’t questioned until now. “General? May I ask a question? Ajax Anvilburn... he was your son, is that correct?”

A shocked expression fell on Forgal’s face “Stand down, Crusader, that’s none of your-”

Almorra raised her clawed hand in the air to silence Forgal “No, Warmaster. I'll answer the question. After all the two of you went through, the crusader deserves that much” she explained. Forgal relaxed, and looked on with curiosity.

“Ajax was my son” Almorra explained “As is our custom, I didn't raise him. I left him at the fahrar, and he found me again after my warband was slaughtered by a dragon. I tried to explain to him why I founded the Vigil, but he said I was wasting my time. He never really understood the threat the dragons pose. Like many in the legions, Ajax never looked beyond the Charr. I will grieve for my son, but I will not look back.”

“I see” Gwyleon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly “I am sorry for your loss, General, but Tyria is safer thanks to your sacrifice.”

“Thank you, I agree.”

“General Soulkeeper” Forgal broke into the conversation “I'd like to request that the crusader be permanently assigned as my partner.”

Almorra’s ears pricked upwards “That’s… A genuine surprise, Forgal. Are you going soft on me?” She jested.

“I… I don't have time to break in anyone else…” Forgal soon gave up his facade “Alright, I admit it. We work well together.”

General Soulkeeper shrugged “Consider yourself so assigned. Crusader, I've briefed Forgal on some options for your next mission. Speak with him, and then decide.”

When Almorra departed, Gwyleon’s emerald gaze turned to Forgal.

“Anyways, our next mission is to help one of three tribal cultures and learn about their various problems. We’ve gotten reports about suspicious activity within Skritt, Hylek, and Quaggan tribes that may have something to do with the dragons” Forgal explained.

The Quaggan are a marine race of manatee-like mammals that speak slowly and carefully. They had been pushed from the Sea of Sorrows when the Elder Dragon of the Sea arose and thus became more plentiful in Tyria.

The Hylek are a race of frog like creatures. They have a very linear mindset and spend most of their time worshipping their various gods, such as the god of the sun. Whether any of these gods actually exist, Gwyleon couldn’t care less.

Gwyleon thought intently for a moment. He didn’t particularly find interest in the Quaggan or the Hylek. In fact, he wasn’t very interested in water in general. He did however, recall the small Skritt that Trahearne had saved from certain death. The small rat like creatures were silly, but intelligent in numbers.

“I’ve always been curious about the Skritt. I’d like to investigate their race” Gwyleon decided.

“The Skritt? Very well, meet me at the Feral Dens, and we will see what kind information we can find.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! More is coming soon!


	8. A Great Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon finds and then loses his short-lived moment of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy I've been waiting for this chapter. Here's where things really begin for Gwyleon! Enjoy!

Gwyleon sat in his inn room for the night. Just outside his window, the stars glittered in silent symphony.

In the morning, he was scheduled to meet Forgal at the Skritt cave to see what issues they could solve. The end goal was to eventually have the race join the Vigil in the fight against the dragons, but Gwyleon didn’t know how much use some Skritt would be in the long run.

He flipped open his leaf journal and took the quill in his hand. He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment before writing.

_‘Together with Sergeant Jeyne and the Ebon Vanguard, Forgal and I managed to overrun and defeat Ajax Anvilburn and his renegades. The treaty signing is safe, and General Almorra was very pleased._

_My next duty is to speak with one of the minor races. I decided to choose the Skritt. If I help solve their troubles, perhaps I can convince them to join the Vigil.’_

Gwyleon grimaced at his terrible handwriting as he read over his journal. He had just recently started recording the different things that he was doing from day to day, so there wasn’t exactly a lot to read. He wondered if one day others would read the chicken-scratch that was his handwriting. The thought made him laugh internally.

As the moon rose higher in the sky, Gwyleon shut his journal and deposited it into his knapsack. With a soft puff, he threw himself down on the bed and stared out the window. The sound of crickets soothed him as he wondered if Trahearne was doing something dangerous. For some reason, the thought bothered him more than he’d like. It hadn’t really been _that_ long since he saw the Firstborn, what was he worrying about anyways?

Tomorrow would definitely bring something new, and he was ready.

\---

The Skritt cave - or scratch as they call it, was… Kind of smelly, to say the least. It smelled a lot like wet rat.

Forgal and Gwyleon met each other at the entrance at noon. They had gotten express permission to enter the Skritt scratch once they promised that they were there to help. Skritt were relatively secretive about their homes. Outsiders were not often permitted inside.

“I have no sympathy for this den of craven thieves. If I find my sword missing, I'll beat them to death with a spoon” Forgal grumbled.

Gwyleon snorted loudly “By the Pale Tree, you're hilarious sometimes.”

Forgal looked at the Sylvari with amused eyes “I personally don't have much use for these thieving rats, but I can see how they'd be an asset against the dragons. Let's see what the little scroungers have dug up.”

“All life is precious, Forgal” Gwyleon said with a smile “You never know where you’ll find your next best ally.”

“Perhaps I’ve taken your knowledge for granted, Crusader” Forgal grunted. “Anyways, These Skritt foragers have been bringing back dragon-tainted finds. We need to seal the whole village off from the dragon's influence, and we need to convince them to join our cause.”

A small brown Skritt with a wiggly pink tail approached Forgal “You, tall one. It's good you're here. This way. Ftokchak will show you what we found.”

“It better not be another junk pile. I know you Skritt - you'll make a fuss over broken glass if it's shiny enough.”

Ftokchak wrinkled his small pink nose “No! No, no, no. Much more interesting. You'll see. Follow.”

The Skritt led the two Vigil soldiers to the center of the scratch. Gwyleon’s eyes widened as he spotted what looked like round balls of molten mass scattered about the clearing. They pulsated with some strange volatile magic that made Gwyleon's shroud hiss in defiance.

“Tchkik found many, deep, deep down in a cave. Going back to get more” Ftokchak nodded.

Forgal drew his axe “Going back for more? That's insane! Do you even know what these are?!”

“No choice. We need goods to trade. Need to trade to feed our young. That, or starve.”

There was a grotesque squelching noise as the eggs around them started to burst into destroyers, the minions of Primordus. The magic-laden crab creatures scuttled around and spit magma onto the dusty. Several smaller destroyers were already overrunning some Skritt guards.

“Aah! Bugs! Rock bugs. Hot rock bugs! Very bad, yes-yes! Sharp, fiery, hungry. Beware!” Ftokchak screeched as he clung to Gwyleon's leg, his dagger ready.

With a swift and calculated movement, Gwyleon withdrew his sword and split open the destroyers that had emerged from the eggs around them. Forgal had taken down at least 10 small destroyer crabs by the time the cave was clear.

Ftokchak sheathed his little dagger and stared up at Gwyleon “Seen these creatures. Before, yes, in the deeps. We fled, long ago. Now, they come closer to the surface, found us. They must have followed our scouts. Found our city. Now they come, all teeth and death. They will return until we die...or they do.”

"Can you get off of me?" Gwyleon shook his leg of the Skritt and rubbed his face.

Forgal crossed his arms and looked thoughtful for a moment “Destroyers. Nasty business. These creatures are minions of the dragon known as Primordus. Vigil records say a group of heroes drove back that dragon's forces long ago... not that youth today care about history. I missed that fight, but I won't miss this one.”

Gwyleon kneeled next to some broken shells that once held a destroyer crab “What is this thing? It looks like some kind of egg. A destroyer egg? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Yes, yes! Tchkik found that one, in room full just like it. Many, many just like it. Tchkik went back to bring more, but...she has not returned” Ftokchak looked worried.

Another Skritt approached and whispered something into Ftokchak’s ear. “Btorr tells me we can make bomb to kill the destroyers. Wants to steal bomb powder from the centaurs, for explosion.”

Forgal scratched his chin “Hmm, hard choice. Look into these eggs and find the lost skritt, or get powder for a bomb to fight the destroyers.” His salmon eyes looked to Gwyleon “Crusader, I'll leave this one up to you.”

Gwyleon couldn’t help himself from thinking back to Trahearne once more. All life was precious, and he felt almost like it was his duty to help even the smallest Skritt. This was what it meant to be compassionate, right?

“I’ll find the Skritt scout, the other Skritt can collect the powder from the nearby centaur camp” he decided.

“I don't like leaving half of this plan up to the Skritt, but if we're going to recruit them, we need to start trusting them. This "destroyer queen" needs to die” Forgal agreed.

"You should trust them" Gwyleon smiled "As you trust me."

Tchkik and a group of Skritt had been sent to retrieve more eggs from deeper in the cave hours ago. When Forgal and Gwyleon approached a deeper clearing, they saw several bodies of dead Skritt on the ground. Splatters of crimson covered the dirt where they had been slain. Whatever killed them obviously had not cared for a clean kill.

“Ayee!” a high-pitch screech broke Gwyleon's focus.

He sprinted towards the end of the cave where three Skritt were facing off against some destroyer harpies. With each moment the harpies were drawing nearer to the Skritt who were bloody, beaten, and outmatched.

Anger surged through Gwyleon’s chest as he rushed over to the group with his greatsword. He grit his teeth as he tore one of the harpies in two with a mighty swing of his blade.

“Hyaa!” Forgal shouted as he dug his axe into the other corrupted destroyer.

Small squeaks of triumph came from the group of Skritt as they dispatched of the last harpy. The life force from the destroyers made his heart burn with a slight pain every time he absorbed it. The lifeless bodies of the harpies exploded into fiery bits once Gwyleon had drained their magic.

The leader, which was likely Tchkik, ran over to him and jumped up and down “Thank you for saving us! We were trapped. The eggs - these eggs are horrible!”

Gwyleon sheathed his sword and smiled at the Skritt “Don't worry. We'll see that they're all killed. Along with their queen… A Destroyer queen” he repeated as his expression fell. “Dragon minions shouldn't be able to reproduce. How is this possible?”

Forgal tapped his axe blade on his pauldron “Two possibilities. Could be a creature that was pregnant when she was corrupted. Or this "queen" might be a kind of minion we've never seen before.”

“Thorns” Gwyleon cursed “Both of those options are horrible. We have to kill it before it lays more eggs, or we’ll see more bloodshed just like this.”

“We'll stand with you and fight” Tchkik squeaked “We know these things from the deeps, know their cruelty. Come, meet me back at the village. Much to do.”

The party made a quick exit from the innards of the cave and headed back towards the main scratch. When they reached the center of the cave, they spotted a huge bomb made of stolen black powder sitting in the middle of the clearing.

Forgal strode past the bomb and looked at Gwyleon with unamused eyes “This place was a deathtrap even before they built a giant bomb. What a mess.”

“Ah! I am glad to see you. Yes” Ftokchak addressed the Vigil soldiers “The Skritt you rescued gave us the mental acuity to assemble a bomb. Our raid on the centaur camp was also a success.”

Gwyleon tilted his ears in confusion “Ftokchak? You sound... smarter. I hope that's not an insulting thing to say.”

Ftokchak shook his head “No, no, no. Skritt think better together, communicate better when we're together. That's why rescuing Tchkik's scouts was important. We needed the numbers to make this plan work.”

“Huh… “ Gwyleon accepted the explanation without any argument.

A very high-pitched squeak from Tchkik broke the conversation “Ftokchak!” she called. “The outlying scouts are under attack! The queen is nearly here!”

“What? It's too soon! The bomb isn't primed. Tchch-akk! We'll have to set it off here, in the village. Evacuate all unnecessary Skritt!”

Gwyleon was stunned for a moment as the queen broke into the cave. It emitted an ear-splitting screech as it began stomping on the Skritt that dare oppose it.

“We'll stun the queen while you ready the bomb. If we should fail, Skritt, I expect you to detonate that ordinance - no matter what” Forgal said as he held his axe tightly in his hand.

“You have my word. This is for the brothers and sisters they took from us. We will bury these destroyers today - no matter what the cost!” Ftokchak shouted as he continued to prepare the bomb.

Gwyleon’s hands gripped the handle of his thorn sword as he locked eyes with the destroyer queen. With a furious screech, it barreled towards Gwyleon. His eyes flashed knowingly as he dodged away from the creature.

Forgal released an battle cry as he lodged his axe into the queen’s leg, dragging it towards the ground. “Now, Gwyleon!” he shouted.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His plan was to use his ice magic to stun the creature long enough so that the Skritt could detonate the bomb. Many of the rats had already fallen, but he would not let any more die on his watch.

Gwyleon released his shroud quickly and drove the blade of his scythe down onto the destroyer queen. He wasn’t able to kill it, but the creature was frozen in a block of pure ice. There wasn’t much time to waste. Being minions of Primordus, they had an affinity for fire and heat. The ice would not be able to hold the destroyer for long.

“Run, run! The bomb has been activated!” Ftokchak called as he began running for the exit.

Gwyleon’s shroud retreated back into him. He cast one last glance towards the queen before him and Forgal made a break for the exit.

A deafening explosion shook the ground as the bomb detonated. Rocks fell from the entrance and blocked the way to the scratch from the inside.

Gwyleon looked over to the remaining Skritt. There weren’t many of them, but at least they would live to see another day.

“We killed the queen and all of her eggs. That's a victory. A hard one, but still a victory” Forgal sheathed his axe and looked at Gwyleon.

Gwyleon nodded and stepped towards Ftokchak. He kneeled down to the Skritt and spoke calmly “Ftokchak, I am sorry that I cannot bring back your loved ones. However, you can stop this from happening to others. The Vigil would be happy to have allies like you amongst us.”

Ftokchak had tears running down his furry little cheeks “Destroyers hunted us below. We lost many. Ran here. Now, here they are. I see there can be no more running. My village will join your cause.”

“Thank you Ftokchak, I wish you the best in finding a new scratch. We will need allies like you in the future.”

“Hmph..” Forgal grunted “I underestimate these squeaking beasts. You were right, Crusader. No matter how small, every set of hands - or scrabbly claws - is important to our cause.”

“Heh” Gwyleon stood back up and chuckled “Guess that old dogs can learn new tricks.”

Forgal rolled his eyes “Watch it, pup, or I'll clip your tail” the threat was hollow. “I'll return to Fort Marriner to report our success. General Soulkeeper will likely send word for you sometime soon. This was a job well done. Still, losing Ftokchak's whole scratch pushes the limit of "acceptable losses." I'm glad we convinced these skritt to join our cause, but I wish we'd been able to save their home.”

“I wish the same, Forgal.”

\---

It had been about a week since the incident with the Skritt. Gwyleon was given some time off while the Vigil investigated some other pressing matters. Most of his time had been spent scribbling things in his journal and grimacing every time he read the words back to himself.

He was definitely no scholar, that was for sure.

He was scheduled to meet with Forgal and General Almorra at the Vigil keep later today, so he decided this was the best way to kill some time.

_Tap tap tap…_

The same pigeon that had come to him before tapped at his glass window. The bird dropped two letters on the window sill when Gwyleon opened the hatch. With a soft, high-pitched tweet, the bird dashed off into the sky.

Gwyleon blinked and opened the first letter. It was in pristine shape, almost as if it had just been sent.

Recruiting the Skritt

Valiant,  
I continue to be impressed with your progress—word just reached the Grove about your order's successful effort to recruit the Skritt. I've always been interested in the collective intelligence they display. If they are as cunning as I've heard, it will be good to have them with us against the dragons. It is a shame that their village was destroyed, but at this stage I firmly believe lives are more important than property. When the dragons are defeated, we'll turn our attention to rebuilding, but first things first.  
I'm also doing my part to marshal resistance to the dragons. I still intend to smooth things over between the members of Destiny's Edge and reforge us into the great fighting machine we once were, but it's a slow, difficult process that is complicated by the strong personalities, egos, and neuroses involved. I won't give up, though, and neither should you.  
May the Pale Tree guide you,

\- Firstborn Caithe

Gwyleon folded up the letter. He was glad that Caithe put as much trust in him now compared to when he had first awakened. Though, he felt that some of the sentiment was lost, since he never particularly cared about what she thought of him.

The next letter was ragged. It looked like it had seen some incredibly dreary weather. There were soft wrinkles covering the surface when Gwyleon opened it. His eyes widened when he saw who the letter was from.

Gwyleon,  
I am pleased to hear of your many triumphs during the time that you’ve resided with the Vigil. It brings me great joy to hear that you have found those you may consider allies. I fear, however, that ill times may come upon us. While I have been in Orr for quite some time now, I have noticed some peculiar activity in the Straits of Devastation. When you get this letter, I’ll likely already know what is happening, but nonetheless, I thought I should let you know.  
Our Wyld Hunts are linked, and I’m sure that we will be seeing each other soon. I look forward to it greatly. Until then, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.

Firstborn Trahearne

Gwyleon’s fingers ran over the letter in silence after he read it. The writing was ornate and carefully thought out. The thought of the Firstborn writing a letter in such a dangerous place filled him with both wonder and fear. Was Trahearne okay? Ge wondered. Surely this letter had been sent quite a while ago judging from how beat up it was.

Giddiness filled his heart as he folded the letter and put it in his knapsack. He was sure that he’d see Trahearne soon. He had changed so much since he last saw the Firstborn, and he was eager to see how their relationship had changed as well. He was no longer just a sapling, after all.

With renewed resolve, Gwyleon packed up his things and set out for Fort Marriner.

Upon entry to the keep, Gwyleon spotted Ftokchak speaking with Almorra. Laranthir, Forgal, and Efut stood nearby as well.

“The skritt are thankful. We will fight, fight hard against these evil creatures” Ftokchak saluted.

General Soulkeeper nodded, “The dragons are a threat to everyone, Ftokchak. I'm glad your village has joined the fight against them.”

“We're small, but we have no fear. Skritt will be good friends. You'll see” the Skritt leader added before scampering away.

Gwyleon walked up to Almorra and bowed “Reporting for duty, General.”

General Soulkeeper raised her paw “Forgal told me what happened, Crusader. I'm proud that you saved so many innocents. You've shown the strength of your resolve. I'm promoting you to Warmaster, effective immediately.”

“I… I.. Thank you, General” Gwyleon stuttered “It is my honor to serve this order!”

Almorra nodded before gesturing to Laranthir to bring her some papers. “I wish I could give you a proper ceremony before you go back in the field, but we have a critical issue at hand.

Gwyleon’s ears tilted forwards in interest.

“People in Lion's Arch are disappearing without explanation. I need both you and Forgal to look into it.”

Forgal spoke what Gwyleon was thinking “With all do respect, General, isn’t that job more suited for the Lionguard?”

Almorra shook her head and met Forgal’s cold gaze “Ordinarily, yes, but some of the missing people _are_ Lionguard. Worse, we've lost contact with one of our Vigil tacticians stationed there.”

“I understand” Gwyleon responded “That makes it our problem. What areas should we survey, and what should we be looking for?”

Almorra took the papers that Laranthir handed her with interest “It says here that the last place these Lionguard were seen was the sewers. Be careful, you never know what could be lurking down there. Report back to me with what you find.”

“Yes General!” Gwyleon saluted as Almorra nodded and padded away with Laranthir and Efut.

Forgal faced Gwyleon  and placed his hand on the green Sylvari's shoulder “I've seen plenty... but you're the finest Warmaster I've had the honor to serve with.”

Gwyleon felt happy tears prickle at the corners of his eyes “You’re the best ally I could ever hope for, Forgal. I’m glad that you were my mentor.”

“Aw, hell, don’t get all teary eyed on me now” Forgal's fists rested on his hips “We still have work to do. Come, meet me at the sewers once you’re ready, Warmaster.”

Gwyleon nodded as Forgal walked away. Much to his surprise, Laranthir and Efut approached him next.

The small Asura warrior smiled up at him “Congratulations on your promotion. You remember me right? I'm Warmaster Efut. Forgal has spoken highly of you, Warmaster.”

“Is that so?” Gwyleon tilted his head “What has he said, exactly?”

Warmaster Efut beckoned him downwards and whispered “Well, just between you and me... he said you were the best hope we had against the dragons. Honestly, I've never seen him this impressed. I think his next words were, _"the kid I should've had."_ Heh.”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted downwards in embarrassed happiness “Such high praise for someone like me. I have to admit, I’m fond of him as well. I’m glad that I chose the Vigil.”

“Indeed” Laranthir spoke “I’m surprised he’s as fond of you as he is. He’s usually quite cold to us. I guess you’ve hit a soft spot on that old bear.”

Gwyleon searched his memories for a moment and recalled that Laranthir was a Secondborn. He had seen much of the world, and he had heard stories of him around the Grove.

“Indeed, Secondborn. Anyways, I must go now. Thank you for speaking with me” he bowed respectively and turned away.

As he said he would, Gwyleon met Forgal outside of the sewers. The rank stench of pestilence wafted upwards from the tunnel and made Gwyleon cover his nose for a moment. “By the Pale Tree!”

“Haha” Forgal laughed with amusement, but his smile was immediately replaced by a cautious expression. “Don’t go soft on me now, Warmaster. We have much to do. These sewers are dangerous. All sorts of monsters could wash in from the sea. Stick together. Be ready for anything.”

The two Warmasters walked a short ways through the sewers. It wasn’t long before they came across two lifeless bodies of Lionguard soldiers floating in the water. Their blood had seeped into the water which ran further ahead.

Forgal rushed over and checked one of the bodies while Gwyleon stood next to the other one. “These Lionguard died fighting. Whatever killed them was -”

"Holy thorns and brambles!!” Gwyleon shouted in astonishment as one of the bodies seemingly came to life and ripped his knapsack from his back. His belongings scattered all over the ground and the risen corpse which was once a Lionguard glared at him menacingly with white, lifeless eyes.

“How dare you!” Gwyleon hissed as he whipped out his sword and cleaved the risen head from the rest of its body.

“Whoa whoa, calm down, Gwyleon. You act like you’ve never seen the risen before” Forgal’s amused tone made Gwyleon even more agitated.

“Oh? What’s this?” Forgal picked up Trahearne’s letter and studied it. It was soaked, but obviously still legible. The faces Forgal made as he read the letter made Gwyleon's face hot with embarrassment.

“That's not yours!” Gwyleon hissed as he eagerly grabbed the letter from Forgal’s hands. A dark green blush plastered onto his cheeks.

“Okay! By raven’s wings, Gwyleon, I didn’t think you were so sensitive about things like this.” A smile crept onto Forgal’s face “If I’m right, which I’m pretty sure I am, maybe you should just spill the beans and tell him what you really think about him.”

Gwyleon huffed as he collected the rest of his things and shoved them into his knapsack. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, Forgal. Now come on, if these bodies are turning into risen, there’s probably a huge issue here.”

Forgal shrugged “Per your wish, but waiting on something like this will drive you mad, trust me.”

“I trust you, but I still don’t know what you’re talking about” Gwyleon insisted indignantly.

“Heheh…” Forgal chuckled as they reached a dead end. There was a shattered grate below that led to a deeper part of the sewer.

“The grate below is broken. We should check through there.” Suddenly the Norn was focused on the task at hand once more.

Gwyleon set his knapsack down on the ground - out of the water this time - and fastened his aquabreather to his head. He beckoned to Forgal as they both jumped down into the dark water below.

Up ahead, a soft green light illuminated the pitch black waters. A disgusting green sludge permeated the area and made a disgusting smell lurk in their aquabreathers.

“Agh! This place stinks like an alehouse on free curry night” Forgal exclaimed.

“Heheh” Gwyleon snickered as they approached the green light.

In the distance, what looked to be some kind of half-transparent undead lizard was swimming in the water. Its claws were digging into the hard foundation that made up the lower parts of Lion’s Arch.

Forgal’s eyes grew wide as he studied the creature “Hurry!” he suddenly shouted “Don’t let it get away!”

Gwyleon’s heart raced in panic as he gripped the creature’s life force and ripped away what little remained. The lizard released a pained screech before it then limply floated in the water.

“That was a lot of unnecessary force… Whoops” Gwyleon spoke mostly to himself. “What in the name of the Pale Tree is that thing?”

“I've only seen such a creature once before - at Port Stalwart, just before the Orrian dragon destroyed the town. Years ago” Forgal explained “It's a special kind of scout for Zhaitan. If that creature's here, then there's an undead army advancing on Lion's Arch.”

“What?” Gwyleon questioned in surprise “Are you sure about that, Forgal? That would be a massive problem.”

Forgal shook his head and deadpanned at Gwyleon “Dead sure. We don't have time to go back and report to Almorra, or even send for Vigil backup. I'll head for Claw Island to warn the Lionguard. Meet me there as soon as you can.”

“Wha- but Forgal, why Claw island?” Gwyleon stammered.

“If Zhaitan's going to attack the city, its minions will have to fight their way past the fort of Claw Island” Forgal added as he began swimming away. “My father died in battle. As did his father. I've always assumed...ah, enough of my jawing. We've got work to do.”

Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted with worry. What was Forgal talking about?

\---

The boat ride to Claw Island was all but silent except for the gentle splashing of waves. Gwyleon noticed that Forgal’s mind appeared to be somewhere else. Nervousness made his blood rush and his veins glow brightly under his skin. This was the first time in quite awhile that he felt so alarmed.

When the boat arrived at the Claw Island port, Forgal stepped off and looked around at the eerily quiet atmosphere. “The creature we found hadn't been in Lion's Arch long. We may still have time. We have to find the Watch Commander and convince him to ready the defenses.”

“Shouldn’t the words of the Vigil be enough?” Gwyleon questioned.

Forgal shook his head “These Lionguard are fools, proud fools. They built this fortress to last. Only a complete, full-bore invasion could break those walls.”

“And that’s exactly what’s coming…” Gwyleon mumbled.

As the two passed by some lingering Lionguard, Gwyleon picked up an idle conversation.

A Charr Lionguard sniffed the air “I smell something odd. Do you smell it?”

“Smell? No. But the back of my neck keeps itching for some reason.”

“I don't like this. Something's definitely wrong” the Charr shook her head.

The words made Gwyleon’s ears droop slightly. Certainly some could tell what was about to happen. His eyes flickered ahead as he spotted a dark green Sylvari speaking to a large Charr who was likely the Watch Commander.

“Is that Trahearne up there, talking to Commander Talon? What do you think he wants?”

Gwyleon cocked his head to the side and peered around Forgal. Sure enough, none other than Trahearne stood near the Watch Commander. His face was strained, but overall, he looked healthy.

“Trahearne, the Necromancer?” the other Lionguard asked “Comes through here every few months on his way to Orr. That guy creeps me out.”

Gwyleon bit back a harsh comment as they approached Trahearne and the Commander. He picked up the tail-end of their conversation.

“I've researched the situation extensively. The Orrians will strike here, on Claw Island” Trahearne said.

“Trahearne!” Gwyleon approached the Firstborn with a smile “It has been such a long time. I’m happy to see you. You study Orr - have there been any signs of an attack on its way?”

“Gwyleon!” Trahearne returned happily “Indeed, you recall the letter that I sent you, this is exactly what I was referencing. Claw Island is in danger, and Watch Commander Talon will not heed my warning. Thank the Mother Tree that you’re here too.”

Forgal cast Gwyleon a smug look and a dark green blush creeped on his face.

_‘Not a word from you’_ he thought.

Gwyleon sucked in a deep breath and faced the Commander “Thank you for meeting with us, Watch Commander Talon. We have grave news. One of Zhaitan's minions breached the city. We destroyed it, but the creature was likely scouting for a much bigger force. An attack is imminent.”

“A what? That's extremely unlikely” Watch Commander Talon shook his head “We've seen no sign of an impending attack. If there was to be one, we'd know of it.”

Trahearne had seemed to almost ignore Forgal’s presence until now “Is that you Forgal? Well met, old man! Are you still fighting for the Vigil?”

“Trahearne? Ahh, by Snow Leopard's shadow, you're a sight for sore eyes. I thought you might forget I was here! With you on our side, we've got a fighting chance. I want you to meet my partner — one of the bravest Warmasters in my Order” Gwyleon couldn’t help but notice the idle wink he received from his former mentor.

Gwyleon shuffled his feet on the ground “Aha… Thank you for the introduction, Forgal, but I’m sure you know that we’re already acquainted.”

“Is that so? How ever could I know that?” A devious smile was plastered on the Norn’s face.

Gwyleon rolled his eyes. They had something important to do!

Trahearne smiled warmly, but then turned to Commander Talon “Commander Talon, I can confirm their information. Zhaitan's servants are indeed approaching. A fleet of Dead Ships has launched from the Straits of Devastation. The Risen sail beneath a cloak of stealth” his voice was low and filled with warning.

“Pah!” the Charr waved his clawed hand “Whatever you've seen, it can't be a real threat. Claw Island can withstand any assault! If you’re so worried, speak with my commanders, Brakk and Mira. Once you review our defenses, you'll realize there's nothing to fear.”

Gwyleon heaved an agitated sigh as he began walking away. There was no choice other than to do as the Commander said, he wasn’t going to believe them either way. Gwyleon’s ears tilted backwards as he eavesdropped on Forgal and Trahearne’s conversation.

“Trahearne, you bookworm, tell me you've got some information on how to stop this attack?” Forgal asked.

“Sadly, no. I'm only here to give the Lionguard a warning — much like you and your friend.”

Forgal’s attitude was unchanged by Trahearne’s comment “Well, at least you've come out from behind your scrolls and scribbles. That's a start. We need your common sense, lad. I'm glad you're here, and I’m sure that my partner is _very_ glad you’re here as well.”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted down and his face burned with embarrassment. Could Forgal have picked any better time to be acting like this?

“Heh” Trahearne chuckled “If you don't mind, I'll accompany you on your rounds. It's been a while since I've toured the fortress.”

When they approached Deputy Brakk, a small Asura, Trahearne was the first to speak. “Be on alert. The Orrians are preparing a major attack against Claw Island.”

The small gray Asura rolled his eyes “If you insist, tell Watch Commander Talon that the gunnery emplacements are ready. The fortress here on Claw Island houses more 24-pounders than a ship of the line! We'll be ready to fight the Orrians. Don't doubt that. If you’re still not convinced, Check on Deputy Mira. She's in charge of the beach patrols.”

Trahearne shook his head “The Lionguard don't understand. This won't be a sortie. It'll be a massacre.”

“Sounds to me like ignorance breeds in those who are never given a challenge” Gwyleon mumbled. “They’ll see, but I worry about how many lives we will lose in this battle.”

When they reached the beaches, they spotted Deputy Mira who was armoured in golden Lionguard plating. Her light blonde hair rested softly on her shoulders. There was a group of battle-ready Lionguard standing behind her.

“Welcome to beach patrol, the most dangerous duty on Claw Island” Mira greeted the group.

“Deputy Mira” Gwyleon deadpanned “There’s a massive attack coming to overrun this fort. If we don’t do something, many good soldiers will die.”

Deputy Mira’s stance seemed to waver a bit at Gwyleon’s words. She pointed towards a huge ornate tower with spiraling steps that housed a giant light on top. “ If we fall, our last order is to light those three signal towers. We have to warn Lion's Arch if the fortress is lost. In a hundred years, they've never once been lit. We're very proud of that… If an invasion is really coming, we'll need everyone on the island to hold the line.”

“You won’t be able to hold the line if everyone on this island is dead” Gwyleon insisted.

Deputy Mira heaved a defeated sigh “Fine, report to Commander Talon that our forces are ready for an attack. I believe you, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“Thank you” Gwyleon nodded as he turned away and headed back towards the keep.

“Well done” Trahearne nodded as he followed “Unfortunately, after 25 years of research, I still have found no discernable way of defeating the Orrian undead for good. The most that we can do is dispatch the ones that threaten us.”

“And that we will do” Gwyleon responded.

Watch Commander Talon was standing near the entrance to the fort. His arms were crossed, and a smug expression was plastered on his muzzle.

“I see no attack coming, perhaps you were wrong in your assumptions?” The Commander said smugly.

“You underestimate the Orrians, they are on their way, just watch the sea” Trahearne urged.

“You're a scholar, not a general, Firstborn. Why should we trust you?”

“You mangy sack of-” Gwyleon started, but was cut off by the sound of warhorns.

“The fortress is under attack! Ready on the wall! Hostiles incoming!” Deputy Mira’s voice sounded out over the clearing.

Copious amounts of risen had suddenly emerged from the dirt below. They had dug under the walls and were beginning to assault the Lionguard around the fortress. Gwyleon stared on in shock as a putrid miasma filled the air.

“There are too many! They've breached the wall! We're being over-” Deputy Brakk’s voice was cut off as a risen zombie bit into his neck and silenced him for good.

Watch Commander Talon’s disposition had definitely changed “They're catapulting abominations onto the Western wall! Repel the invaders!”

“So many - the wind has grown stronger. There's something in the clouds!” Trahearne shouted.

Gwyleon didn’t have time to look up, he was already rushing for the walls and cleaving through abominations with his thorn greatsword. They were tough opponents who had once gotten the better of him, but he was stronger now, and wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

“Be stalwart, Gwyleon! We are all that stand between these monsters and the innocents in Lion's Arch” Forgal’s words strengthened his resolve.

The abominations fell around him into heaps of body parts. The life force that he siphoned from their bodies was foul and made him want to vomit, but he preserved. There were lives that needed to be saved.

“We've held out against worse than this. I defy the dragon to take our island! YOU HEAR ME, ZHAITAN? DEFY!” Commander Talon’s voice called out to the Lionguard who were fighting with all their might against the risen zombies.

The cries of battle roared in Gwyleon’s ears as Deputy Mira fled to the inner sanctum of the fortress. She limped towards Watch Commander Talon and saluted him.

“Mira! How stand the beaches?”

“Fallen, sir, and a lot of good soldiers with them. We have to light the watchtowers!” Mira shouted as she held her mangled arm close to her. The left side of her face was dripping with fresh red blood.

“And let Lion's Arch think we've lost? No, Mira, not yet. Claw Island's withstood much worse. Get on a trebuchet. That Dead Ship in the harbor holds their reinforcements. Sink it!” The Commander ordered to Gwyleon.

“How long are you going to let your foolish pride take the lives of others!?” Gwyleon spat angrily.

"Do as I tell you, and I can show you that we can defend ourselves!" the commander hissed back.

Gwyleon growled angrily and made his way towards the trebuchet. The device was foreign to him, he didn't know how to work it correctly. Anger continued to bubble in his chest as he fumbled with the wooden machine.

“Let me take this, Warmaster” Forgal’s surprisingly calm voice reached Gwyleon. He stepped away from the machine as he was told.

It took Forgal a few moments of careful calculation to aim and launch a fiery missile at the undead ship. With a loud crash, the mortar striked the ship head on. A whine rang out over the water as the bone ship split and two and sank beneath the waves.

“We did it! It's sinking! A small victory!” Mira cheered, but her happiness was crushed when ten more ships rose from the depths and began flinging more abominations onto the walls. “By the gods, there's so many of them!”

“Gah!” Forgal spat as they abandoned the trebuchet and raced back to Deputy Mira and Watch Commander Talon.

“Talon, this is no normal attack! The Lionguard cannot hold! We're overwhelmed!” Deputy Mira pleaded.

“Claw Island has stood for nearly a hundred years. It cannot fall! We'll fight them to the last soldier! To the last sword! We'll never surr- Gah!” A bloated plague-carrier zombie rushed towards the commander and exploded right in front of him. The Charr’s body was flung backwards and covered in a thick acidic ooze which ate through his eyelids.

“Talon! No!” Deputy Mira rushed over to the commander “Talon, don’t let go! We’ll get you to safety, you’ll be okay!”

“Soldiers have no need for lies, Mira. Retreat to Lion’s Arch. Tell them that we did all we could…” Talon choked on the slime that burned his throat and muzzle.

“Of course.. Commander, I swear by you, this isn’t over!”

“Mira, the island is overwhelmed. We have to evacuate the Lionguard and ignite the watchtowers to warn the city” Gwyleon insisted. He couldn’t help but not care about the fate of Watch Commander Talon. The Charr had already been the indirect cause of so many deaths.

“No” Mira shook her head “You'll never make it to the beacon with these Risen monstrosities chasing you. We'll have to fight our way back. The Lionguard will make a stand in the courtyard while you go for the tower. Gods willing, the Risen will be too busy fighting us to stop you.”

“And what do you expect to do, sacrifice every soldier you have?!” Gwyleon hissed.

Trahearne nodded in agreement “Your bravery is commendable, Deputy Mira, but your soldiers cannot survive a protracted battle against this many undead.”

“It's the duty of every Lionguard to lay down our lives to protect our city. If that's what it takes, that's exactly what we'll do. We'll rally in the courtyard. You light the warning beacons. Now, go!” the deputy shouted harshly at Gwyleon before rising to her feet and rallying the Lionguard in the courtyard.

Gwyleon turned to Trahearne and Forgal “Stay here while I light the watchtower.”

“What? Don’t go trying to pull any heroic garbage on me, Gwyleon. I am coming with you” Forgal insisted.

“As am I, we will keep the risen at bay while you hit the switch on that watchtower” Trahearne agreed.

Gwyleon heaved a sigh, this was no time to be arguing with his allies, so he allowed them to follow. He couldn’t help but feel a sickly bile turn in his stomach.

“Everyone, fall back to the courtyard! Rally to me, for one last stand. Push them back, and keep your courage up!” Deputy Mira screamed to her fellow Lionguard as they fought back with what little force they had.

The group of three used the distraction and made their way up the steps towards the main watchtower. Several undead abominations stood in Gwyleon’s way and roared at him with putrid breath.

“Get out of my way!” Gwyleon bellowed as his shroud masked his body in darkness.

Trahearne had cast a spell which summoned undead hands to reach from the ground and latch onto the legs of the abominations while Forgal and Gwyleon sliced through them. As they were slain, they fell into various organs and body parts which coated the ground in a green slimy mess of fluid.

Gwyleon’s shroud dissipated as he climbed the stairs that wrapped around the watchtower. Once he was at the top, he reached out and slammed his hand down on the button which activated the light on the watchtowers. A blinding blue light flashed on the top of the pillar and soon all 3 pillars that surrounded the island shined with a brilliant blue light.

“Finally! Now we can-” Gwyleon was cut off by a blood-curdling roar from the sky.

Gwyleon was standing on the platform that jutted out from the side of the watchtower when he came face to face with a half-decayed undead dragon campion. The dragon all but dwarfed him in size as it hovered in front of Gwyleon. His eyes widened as he realized that he was barely the side of one of the dragon's claws.

The Dragon was merely rotting bones covered in ligaments and decaying flesh. Rows of gagged teeth stuck out from it’s jaw. The creature's lifeless white eyes stared down at Gwyleon.

He was frozen as his eyes locked with those of the beast. There was a pause before the dragon drew in a huge breath and breathed a putrid acidic breath onto Gwyleon.

Gwyleon heard himself scream in agony as the acid burned into his plant armour and ripped away pieces of his skin. His vision blurred as the bright green sap dripped from his wounds. He fell to his knees, and for a moment he felt fear as the dragon’s dirty clawed hand smashed into him and flung him down the stairs.

“Gwyleon!!” Forgal shouted as the Sylvari’s mangled body tumbled towards the courtyard. Trahearne gasped in terror as they both rushed to his side.

The dragon’s green slimy tongue licked its lips as it flew towards the courtyard. With a mighty flap of its wings, it landed squarely on the Southern wall and smashed it to pieces. A ferocious hiss left it’s chest as it breathed its poisonous breath onto some of the remaining Lionguard.

“Gwyleon! Gwyleon!” Forgal shook the Sylvari roughly in his arms in attempts to wake him.

Gwyleon’s vision was blurry and the pain from his wounds clouded his mind, but he was alive. He released a agonized groan as he tried to lift himself into a sitting position. He winced and doubled over as his chest roared in pain. He could feel splinters of rib bone sticking out from his side.

“Don’t worry about me, Forgal. I’m alive, I’ll recover” Gwyleon assured with a gasp. “We.. We have to rally the remaining Lionguard and get out of here, quickly!”

Forgal nodded as he lifted Gwyleon up onto his feet “You’re darn right you’ll recover. Can you move?”

“Of… Of course I can” Gwyleon sucked in a painful breath as he took a few steps “I’ll be fine, just focus on getting the rest of the Lionguard out of here.”

“Lionguard, we must retreat! To the docks!” Deputy Mira shouted over the roar of the undead dragon champion.

Forgal, Trahearne, Gwyleon, and Deputy Mira made their way just past the gate that led to the docks, but found that their path was blocked on both sides. Risen zombies were still pouring into the fortress from the beaches, where as a lesser force was trying to overrun the docks.

The burns on Gwyleon’s body stung and his chest ached with every step, but he knew he couldn’t stop. That was, until he noticed Forgal had stopped following them. He whipped around and saw Forgal standing at the gate.

The norn looked back at the group with sad eyes “The dragon's servants will never let our ships sail. If they surround the docks, they'll slaughter us - and Zhaitan's forces will grow.”

“Our soldiers are too injured to fight. They can barely walk. I’ll have to call upon what little power I have left if we’re going to make it out of here” Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted.

Forgal looked up at the sky and then back at Gwyleon “A heroic but nearly impossible task, against great odds and an unrelenting enemy. This, my friend, is a death worthy of legend. Get the wounded to safety. Warn Lion's Arch. One day, you'll come back and retake this island - of that, I have no doubt.”

Gwyleon stared at Forgal for a moment before stomping over to him “Oh no you don’t! Don’t be talking this nonsense, Forgal. You can’t hold them off, and we need you! _I_ need you by my side!”

“I lost my mate and children to the dragons. I thought my legend was buried with them, that I had no one to walk in my footsteps and tell my tale. Now that's changed, my friend. Thank you for being my legacy. Tell my tale at the hearth fires, where the skaalds sing of heroes.” A couple tears dripped down Forgal’s cheeks as he placed his hand on Gwyleon’s singed shoulder.

“No!” Gwyleon screamed as green tears stained his cheeks. He gripped Forgal's gloved hand tightly “I will not let you sacrifice yourself! You are better than any soldier here! You’re my mentor! My partner!”

“I’m sorry, Gwyleon. Go now, I will not fail” was all that Forgal said as he pushed Gwyleon to the ground and threw the lock to the gate, closing himself off with the risen. The last thing Gwyleon saw was Forgal's axe raised in the air and the dragon screeching in the distance.

“Forgal, no!” Gwyleon screamed.

“You may win the battle, dragon, but you will never defeat our spirit! I am Forgal, son of Kern. My father was the last Dolyak Shaman! I am a Warmaster of the Vigil! You will never make me kneel!” Forgal’s voice rang out one last time as the creature roared in fury.

“Gwyleon.. I..” Trahearne began as he rested his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Gwyleon hissed as he pushed Trahearne’s arm away. Let’s just get out of here…”

Gwyleon lifted himself to his feet and sniffled, the vibrant green tears running down his face wouldn’t stop. He had one last job to do, and that was get these people to safety.

He felt numb as his shroud engulfed his body and strengthened him for the few moments he needed to cleave through the rest of the risen forces that had laid siege to the docks.

Gwyleon felt white hot exhaustion burn into his bones when the group reached the ships. He collapsed into a heap of green sap once the ship had safely departed from the docks which were now being overrun. His eyes lingered on the island where Forgal was undoubtedly fighting for his life.

A few moments of silence passed when Trahearne approached Gwyleon once more. The shadows of his shroud licked at his wounds in attempts to heal him.

“Valiant, I am sorry for your loss, Forgal was a fine warrior” Trahearne said solemnly.

“Heh…” Gwyleon chuckled dryly as he stood up on his feet “This is what I get, huh? Just when things are finally how I want them to be they are ripped from my grasp. The one person who cared enough about me to call me their ally is gone.”

Trahearne could feel the coldness of Gwyleon’s shroud threatening him as he stepped closer. “That isn’t true, you have many allies around you. It’s okay to grieve and to feel sad for what you’ve lost.”

“What would you know?!” Gwyleon hissed as the shadows whipped ferociously around him “You didn’t care about me until just today! I was alone! I had nobody! Forgal was.. He was my only friend!”

“Valiant, you-”

“My name is Gwyleon! I’m sick of your ridiculous titles! they are only meant to create distance!” Gwyleon spat. “You don’t really care! You just want me to calm down so that I don’t scare all of these coward Lionguard!”

The Lionguard were quietly moving towards the other side of the boat in fear. They obviously didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Gwyleon’s anger. Deputy Mira ushered them away, but looked on with sad eyes.

“Okay, I understand. Please, I implore you not to let yourself be consumed by anger. You’ll only hurt yourself.. I am here for you if you need someone to talk to” Trahearne’s soft, even voice made fresh tears spill from Gwyleon’s eyes.

Gwyleon choked back a sob “You don’t understand, Trahearne. This was all I had…”

Trahearne flinched backwards as one of the shadowy tendrils lashed out at him. Nonetheless, he stepped forwards and embraced Gwyleon in a hug. The shroud licked dangerously at the Firstborn’s arms before it settled down, deeming that he was indeed, not a threat.

“Forgal was precious to you, but he is not all you have. I may not have been here for you in the past, but I am here for you now, and I won’t just leave” Trahearne’s deep voice made Gwyleon's heart ache.

Gwyleon’s ears flattened when Trahearne hugged him. Normally, he would be a mess of embarrassment at the sudden touch, but the sadness that tore at his heart made him wrap his arms around the Firstborn and sob into his shoulder. The smell of old dusty books and hint of the Grove only made his tears flow faster.

A few moments of sobbing passed when Gwyleon felt his consciousness slipping. The pain that he had forgotten about was back in full force now. He had lost quite a bit of sap. Trahearne felt Gwyleon slipping from his grasp and gripped him tighter. He laid the Sylvari on the ground and studied his mangled, unconscious body.

“Gwyleon! By the Pale Tree, we need a medic!” Trahearne called as Gwyleon’s eyes shut and he drifted off into darkness.


	9. Dreams of Orr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon recovers from the fight at Claw Island and has an important journey through The Dream with Trahearne.

The sound of muffled voices slowly prickled at Gwyleon’s ears. He was in some sort of soft hammock bed. The smells of The Grove and dusty books filled his nose. His emerald eyes opened slowly and ached at the sudden light.

The soft chirping of birds made him want to fall back asleep, but something in the back of his mind told him he had to wake up.

Gwyleon’s eyes widened when he remembered what he was doing before he collapsed. A longing pain of loss filled his chest. Forgal had sacrificed himself so that the rest of them could live another day. What was he doing? How did he get to The Grove?

His eager thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a pen scribbling on paper. Gwyleon’s gaze floated over to his left. The sight of Trahearne sitting at a desk about three feet away surprised him a bit.

The Firstborn’s golden eyes were locked onto the paper that he was writing on. His pen made elegant swirls and ornate letters that Gwyleon could never hope to write in his lifetime. Some kind of letter, perhaps?

Gwyleon stared with half-lidded eyes as Trahearne pushed away the leaves that had fell in his line of sight and obscured his view. He didn’t look particularly interested in what he was writing, but Gwyleon still took special interest in how interesting the Firstborn looked when he didn’t know he was being watched.

Trahearne had dark green marks under his eyes which were likely from exhaustion. Had the Firstborn been that concerned about him? The thought made him feel both warm and a bit concerned.

Several old, dusty books were sitting on the table next to Trahearne’s workspace. They had Orrian titles such as “Creatures in Orr” and “Orrian Funerary Rites”. The Firstborn’s knapsack was sitting next to the desk, it looked particularly ragged from years of travel.

“Ah, you’re awake” Trahearne’s cheerful, unexpected voice made Gwyleon jump a little.

His green eyes fixated on the Trahearne as he turned and faced Gwyleon.

“Seems so…” Gwyleon rubbed his aching head “I feel.. Ugh...” He groaned.

Trahearne frowned and stood up from his chair. He sat down next to Gwyleon’s bed on the wooden floor and reached for the Sylvari’s hand to inspect it.

“It seems Blightghast the Plaguebringer really did a number on you. You had acidic burns all over your body. You’re lucky we have such talented menders here, I was worried about you” Trahearne trailed off as he studied Gwyleon’s singed arm.

Gwyleon’s ears tilted downwards in surprise as Trahearne’s delicate fingers trailed upwards along his injured skin “H-hey, Blightwhat? I.. Um...” he stammered.

Trahearne’s golden eyes were fixated on his healing injuries. So much so, that he didn’t take note of Gwyleon’s awkward behavior.

“Blightghast the Plaguebringer. One of Zhaitan’s dragon champions” Trahearne said “I didn’t expect to see it at Claw Island.”

Gwyleon’s head tilted and his eyebrows scrunched together “Oh.. I see. Exactly how long have I been here?”

Trahearne released Gwyleon’s arm and rubbed the back of his neck “You’ve been here for at least a day. The menders have instructed me not to let you leave yet, since you are not fully healed.”

“What? I.. I have to leave… Lion’s Arch is in danger!” Gwyleon tried to sit up but winced as his a shockwave of pain rippled along his back..

Trahearne’s frowned as he put his hand under Gwyleon’s back to help him sit up in the hammock. “You must be careful, I just said you aren’t fully healed yet and if you go off now you’d just injure yourself further.”

Gwyleon flinched as Trahearne’s hand supported his back. A dark green blush made him cover his face. He felt so weak and exposed, especially when he needed help just to sit up.

Gwyleon’s emerald eyes peeked out from behind his hands “I… I’m fine. I can’t just sit here while the risen attack Lion’s Arch.” he protested feebly.

Trahearne crossed his arms “I understand that you want to continue the fight, but we have a bit of time considering the number of risen that had been culled at Claw Island. I insist that you stay here for awhile and rest, Gwyleon.”

Gwyleon’s hands fell back onto his lap. Trahearne was right, but admitting that didn’t make it any less humiliating. “Ugh… Fine” he resigned with a grumble “But, I don’t plan to just sit in this bed. I have things to do.. People to write to.”

Trahearne heaved a sigh “Oh! Speaking of which” he perked up and pulled a letter out of his bag. It had a dark blue wax seal with the Vigil emblem imprinted on it.

“This is for you, Almorra Soulkeeper sent it. I’ve spoken with her about your recovery as well.”

Gwyleon took the letter from Trahearne and began scanning it intently.

Warmaster,

News of the death of mighty Forgal has been a blow to us all. I am deeply saddened to hear of it, and I know you must be suffering. But now, with Zhaitan on our shores and the city of Lion's Arch threatened, the Vigil is needed more than ever. We are regrouping at Fort Marriner, to lend our efforts to the city's immediate defense. Your orders are to rendezvous there and lead a contingent of soldiers into battle once you have recovered.

The Vigil needs your courage; Tyria needs your knowledge of our enemies weaknesses. Be strong.

General Almorra Soulkeeper

Gwyleon ran his hand through the green burned leaves on his head that were already starting to regrow along the edges. The thought of Forgal telling him to rest and fight another day made his heart ache.

“Fine… I’ll stay here for no more than two days. That’ll give me enough time to regrow my armour at least.”

“Good, in the meantime, I’ll be writing some letters for you to Knut Whitebear so that he my know of what happened to Forgal. Your penmanship is horrific” Trahearne chuckled.

Gwyleon’s eyes narrowed and he pointed at Trahearne “Hey, you know what? I’m a fighter, not a storyteller… and what were you doing reading my journal?”

Trahearne shrugged and offered a guilty smile “It fell out when I was carrying you here, I figured I’d have a look. Either way, since we’ll be spending a lot more time together, I can write for you from now on.”

“You.. Yeah, fine… That’d be fine..” Gwyleon mumbled.

\---

Gwyleon spent those two days doing a whole lot of nothing. Trahearne had barely let him leave Dreamer’s Terrace, let alone even approach the exit of The Grove.

Most of his time was spent talking to Trahearne about the different powers a Necromancer had. Though, he did feel pretty elated when the Firstborn told him that he was one of the most powerful newly awakened he’d ever known.

He felt a strange attachment to the Firstborn. He didn’t feel the same way about Trahearne that he did about Forgal when they were partners. No, this was a warm feeling that Gwyleon couldn’t put his finger on.

He had spent a lot of time telling jokes that Trahearne didn’t seem particularly interested in. Nonetheless, Gwyleon felt a special satisfaction when he heard Trahearne’s laugh or saw his smile.

Much to his disgruntlement, he felt a lot better than he did within those two days of bedrest. The menders had taken good care of his injuries, and his armour had almost completely regrown. It actually looked quite a bit like Trahearne’s, but his was heavier and more protective since he was a front line fighter.

Even so, he still felt vulnerable. His heart was fragile, but he was assured that he wasn’t alone. Trahearne had insisted in accompanying him to Lion’s Arch. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the Firstborn around… He just felt particularly on-edge when he was around Trahearne. It wasn’t an ill feeling, but it was distracting at times.

The two Sylvari approached Fort Marriner side by side. Gwyleon immediately noticed that most of the Vigil Soldiers were missing from their usual training stations. Across the clearing, there were soldiers heading towards the beach.

“Ah, Warmaster and Trahearne” General Soulkeeper addressed the duo “I heard what happened at Claw Island. The Lionguard - no, the whole city - owes you a debt of honor.”

“It wasn’t me” Gwyleon’s voice dipped as he folded his arms “Forgal gave his life so that we could escape that island… He alone deserves praise.”

“He will be remembered as one of the Vigil's great heroes, and he will be dearly missed” General Soulkeeper assured.

Trahearne placed his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “Forgal's sacrifice held them back, but it was your bravery that led us to safety, Gwyleon. I am grateful to you. If I can aid in this defense, I'm at your service.”

Gwyleon flinched in surprise at the touch and remembered Forgal’s silly comments he made about the two of them. He missed the old Norn’s banter, no matter how much his mentor aimed to embarrass him.

General Soulkeeper nodded “Trahearne is right. You took out enough of Zhaitan's forces to stop the imminent attack on Lion's Arch, but the dragon won't pause for long. There are reports of undead landing up and down the coast, likely an attempt to soften the city's perimeter. We need to organize the Vigil's forces and defend the beach. Come, let's review the troops.”

Down along the water the battle-ready troops were patrolling diligently. Laranthir and Efut were staring out into the ocean with narrowed, focused eyes.

The sound of splashing waves made Gwyleon turn his attention to the water. Row upon row of risen were limping onto the sand, their bodies drenched in cold salty liquid. Several abominations were lumbering out as well, a disgusting acid dripping from their barely sewn mouths.

“Crusaders!” Almorra called “Forces of the Elder Dragon Zhaitan stand on the very threshold of Lion's Arch. If Lion's Arch falls, the nations of Tyria will not be far behind. Fight for your homes! Fight for your families! This is what we've trained for! This is what we've bled for! This is what we will die to defend! We will hold this ground! We are the Vigil!”

Trahearne’s golden eyes flickered to Gwyleon as he unsheathed his scepter and wooden focus “You can't do this alone. I'll stand with you.”

Gwyleon drew his greatsword and rested it on his shoulder “Make sure you watch yourself, too.”

“This is for Forgal!” Gwyleon shouted as he charged down the beach with Trahearne close behind. His feet dug deeply into the sand with every step.

His huge thorn blade ripped through one of the abominations with ease. Its mangled diseased body fell to the ground and stunk of decay. Nearby, Trahearne was sending waves of dark magic at a group of risen. The darkness surrounded them and ate into their half-rotting flesh.

The Vigil soldiers were ready for this fight., and It wasn’t long before they had overrun most of the risen forces that were sent to attack Lion’s Arch. There were many to kill, but they fell with ease at the might of the Vigil. With the help of crusaders manning arrow carts from behind, not one soldier had been lost.

Gwyleon cut down the last of the abominations and sheathed his sword onto his back. His nose wrinkled at the smell that the wet bodies produced. He cast a silent hope to the wind that Forgal had not faced the fate of being turned into a risen soldier. He was immune to Zhaitan’s corruption, but Norn were not.

“Well done, soldiers! That should thin out the undead and take pressure off Lion's Arch for a while longer” Almorra bowed to the Vigil soldiers who soon returned to their beach patrol.

Trahearne’s eyebrows knitted “The Vigil bought us time, but not advantage. The undead don't get weary, and they have an almost unending supply of troops. We must retake Claw Island and drive Zhaitan from these shores. General Soulkeeper, there are many brave souls throughout Tyria who may be willing to lend a hand, if the Vigil reached out to them.”

“True. A few come to mind. A norn called Fibharr has been making his name in the tournaments. Fights like a rabid drake. I also know two fine charr soldiers that I've been trying to recruit for years - Snarl and Galina. They'd be a tremendous help.”

“Sounds good” Gwyleon tapped his foot on the ground “I’ll go and speak to Galina and Snarl on behalf of the order. Perhaps Laranthir or Efut can speak to Fibharr?”

“Good initiative, Warmaster” Almorra signaled to Laranthir “Laranthir will make arrangements to recruit Fibharr. I trust that you’ll do your best to bring Snarl and Galina to our order.”

“You can count on it, General” Gwyleon saluted.

“I hope you don’t mind that I offer my help once more - I owe it to Forgal, and to you” Trahearne suddenly seemed a bit sheepish.

Gwyleon gave a soft smile “Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side, Trahearne.”

He swore that he saw the lightest golden blush on the Firstborn’s cheeks before he turned away

“Right, let’s depart then.”

\---

The Iron Marches were at the Easternmost part of Ascalon. The brand had ripped into the Western portion of the landscape and left a huge gaping scar full of branded creatures. It was a dangerous place that only the Charr were accustomed to.

Trahearne and Gwyleon were crossing the bridge that led to Bloodfin Lake when Trahearne began thinking aloud. “If we can convince Galina Edgecrusher and Snarl Backdraft to aid us, it could turn the tide against the Risen.”

“You know them?” Gwyleon questioned.

“Hmm” Trahearne hummed thoughtfully “Only by reputation, really. Galina is a powerful and well-respected Blood legionnaire. She's renowned for her use of artillery and raw force.”

“I see” Gwyleon rubbed his chin “Sometimes I forget how long you’ve been in Tyria while I was waiting around in The Dream.”

Trahearne chuckled “Twenty-five years I’ve wandered Tyria. I’ve heard a lot of stories and been to many different places. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a bit lonely, though.”

Gwyleon stopped in his tracks and stared at Trahearne. The Firstborn stopped and met his gaze evenly.

Silently he recalled Trahearne’s comments about how distant he felt every time he returned from Orr. How hopeless his Wyld Hunt seemed. He didn’t want Trahearne to be lonely or hopeless, and it was at this moment that Gwyleon had decided that he’d do his best to help the Firstborn in any way he could.

Gwyleon sucked in a breath and his eyes filled with fiery determination. “I promise that I will help you complete your Wyld Hunt, Trahearne. I can only imagine how hopeless and lonely you must have felt all these years, I hope to change that.”

Trahearne’s golden eyes stared dumbfoundedly at Gwyleon, a soft yellow glow was present on his cheeks “Er.. I… Thank you, I’m happy that you’re here, Gwyleon.”

Gwyleon smiled “Now come on, we’re going to recruit those two Charr and take back Claw Island.”

Up ahead, a white female Charr with black stripes was cursing at some lower-ranked Charr who were manning cannons. They were shooting at a hill that was up in flames. Fire elementals were setting trees ablaze and the Charr were doing their best to contain them.

“Don't look at me, look at the enemy, you idiots! And keep firing!” She yowled.

Gwyleon steeled his nerves and approached the Charr. She wore red spiked armour and her mane was tied back with red hair ties.

“Excuse me, are you Legionnaire Galina Edgecrusher?”

Her pale blue eyes fixated on Gwyleon “What in Adelbern's gutted hide are you supposed to be? You don't look like reinforcements, plant!”

Gwyleon’s eye twitched “I’m better than reinforcements, I have a challenge for you. Zhaitan's undead army has taken Claw Island, and we need your skills to defeat them. General Soulkeeper says you're the best.”

Galina snorted and pointed a claw at herself “I am the best. But fight Zhaitan? Ha. Mists and mortars, I've got my hands full with these ember spirits. I can't go fight a dragon. My orders are to bombard that hill until that Ash-trash creeps up there and kills the shaman. At this rate, it could take months.”

“Heheh” Gwyleon chuckled “Ash-trash…”

Trahearne rolled his eyes “Where are they, then? With your bombardment distracting the Flame Legion, it should be an easy matter to sneak up that peak.”

“The Legion sent Snarl Backdraft to do the deed, but the lazy cur hasn't shown up. Wretched, good-for-nothing soot-furred lout probably went swimming.”

“You stay here and keep the bombardment going. We'll look for Snarl. He may have run into something he can't handle” Trahearne decided.

Galina growled “We? There is no "we," twiggy. I'm not interested in a waterlogged Ash deserter. Do whatever you please.”

Gwyleon could barely stifle his chuckle as Trahearne cast him an unamused look.

“So, ash-trash as she calls it went around the Flame Legion, huh?” Gwyleon suddenly acted serious “Guess we should check the Western part of the lake for clues.”

The Sylvari duo soon found themselves searching in an underwater cave that Snarl would have likely used to sneak up on the Flame Legion attackers. Gwyleon and Trahearne surfaced inside of a cave and put away their aquabreathers.

“More intruders!” A human separatist suddenly shouted “Get them!”

Gwyleon hauled himself out of the water and called upon his shroud. His scythe itched with hunger as he sliced through the humans that were standing in his way. The ill-trained separatists were no match for the two Necromancers and fell into heaps of bodies quickly.

Surprisingly, Gwyleon didn’t see Trahearne pay any mind to the loss of life.

Trahearne sheathed his weapons and stepped forward. He flipped over one of the bodies and examined it. “Separatists. Humans who ignore Queen Jennah's ceasefire with the Charr. I’m surprised that they continue to cause havoc in Ascalon.”

Gwyleon’s shroud dissipated and his hands rested on his hips “Yeah, I heard a lot about them when I was in Ebonhawke with Forgal on a mission. I didn’t think they’d be in this cave, though.”

“Hey! Plants! Give a Charr a hand here!” a tied up Charr and several other ash-legion allies called to Gwyleon and Trahearne.

“There's Snarl. Looks like they need help, after all” Trahearne mumbled as they walked over and untied the Charr soldiers.

Snarl flexed his muscles which were covered by a soft brown tawny fur. His armour was dull gray, which was pretty popular for Ash legion warbands. His teeth were massive, so much so, that Gwyleon found it a miracle that he could speak.

“Ah, finally free! Of all the dumb luck. We were looking for Flame Legion, and found a hidden base of separatist punks. Stupid separatists, getting in the way of me killing Flame Legion! Seriously, I hate those guys” he growled.

Gwyleon tilted his head “Glad to help. You're Snarl Backdraft, right? General Soulkeeper says you're one of the finest scouts in the Ash Legion. The Vigil needs your skills, Snarl. Zhaitan's armies overran Claw Island, and we need help to drive them back.”

Snarl looked at Gwyleon with fiery blue eyes “Claw Island? No! I was raised in Lion's Arch. There's no way I'm letting the city fall. Help me with this Flame Legion shaman, and I'll gladly join your fight.”

Trahearne smiled triumphantly “That's excellent news! Do you think you can convince Galina to help us, as well?”

Snarl tapped a massive claw on his chin for a moment “That squeaky old crankshaft? Well… for Lion's Arch, I suppose I can put up with anything. Sure, I can make it happen. Now, c'mon. We've got a shaman to roll before we move out.”

With that, Snarl and his relatively small warband proceeded towards the exit of the cave that led to where the Flame Legion shaman was. Trahearne and Gwyleon followed after, but with a slower pace.

“Snarl seems likable. I hope we can work some magic with Galina” Trahearne said.

“Yeah, Charr are pretty funny, I’ve learned all sorts of new words today. Hopefully Laranthir is having as much luck with Fibharr.”

“Fibharr is powerful, skilled, and charismatic… But he’s also the most egotistical snot-brain I’ve ever met” Trahearne said with an unamused tone.

Gwyleon snorted “What? Snot-brain? I didn’t know that you, a greatly respected Firstborn, would say such a silly thing.”

“What are you going on about?” Trahearne seemed genuinely confused for a moment, but then chuckled with amusement “I may be a Firstborn, but I am still just me.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way” Gwyleon smiled.

At the top of the hill, Snarl’s warband had begun cutting down the fire elementals. Gwyleon was impressed by how quickly and efficiently the warband worked together. When Snarl had impaled the last fire elemental, a magic-warped Flame Legion shaman appeared.

“Let's get that shaman!” Snarl shouted to his warband.

Snarl’s warband was on top of the shaman in a little as a heartbeat. Gwyleon drew his greatsword and charged into the fray. It was one shaman against many Charr and two Sylvari. It wasn’t long before it was nothing but a mess of bloody fur on the ground. Gwyleon had no clue how Galina and Snarl had been stalled for so long. He guessed that the summoned fire elementals were somehow enough to cause a problem.

Snarl sheathed his weapons and approached Gwyleon “The Flame Legion will be burning up the Mists from here on out. Nicely done. We should probably go speak with that fur-butt Galina now.”

“Oh, this is gonna’ be good. Charr are hilarious” Gwyleon said to Trahearne.

Trahearne shrugged “Regardless, this means that we now have two Charr warbands on our side for our attack on Claw Island. Well done.”

On the other side of the hill, Galina and her Blood Legion warband were beginning to pack up their cannons.

Snarl leaned towards Gwyleon “Hey, watch this.”

“Chalk up another dead fool of a Flame to the Ash Legion!” he bellowed triumphantly as he approached Galina. The fury on her face was evident.

Galina stomped up to Snarl and tapped on his chest plate with a long claw “To you...? You glorified sneak-thief! You'd never have gotten him without my bombardment!”

Snarl offered a toothy, smug grin “Oh, you think so? Care to make a bet on that, fur-bucket? What say we go somewhere and see who tallies more enemy kills?”

“I'll take that bet, Backdraft. You're as good as beaten. Name the place!”

“Claw Island, outside of Lion's Arch” Snarl declared.

Galina looked confused for a minute, but then whipped her head over to Gwyleon and Trahearne. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously when Gwyleon smirked.

Snarl didn’t let her speak “Oh I see you've heard what happened there? Good. Then you know what we're in for...unless you're too scared?”

Galina stepped towards Snarl, their snouts were almost touching “Scared? Me? Ha. I'll pile those undead muzzle-high, Backdraft. I'll see you at Claw Island, and we'll count our kills.” With that, she turned away and returned to barking orders at her warband.

Snarl turned towards Gwyleon and grinned in victory “I toldja I'd get Galina to come with us. Heh, heh.”

“Well uh… You sure have a way with women I guess” Gwyleon chuckled and waved goodbye to Snarl.

Trahearne rested his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “Well, that was eventful. Before we return to the Fort Marriner I would like to suggest that we speak to the Pale Tree before we begin our assault.”

Gwyleon jumped a bit at the touch, but quickly forced himself to relax. He silently berated himself for his awkward reactions every time Trahearne touched him. Why was he so on edge?

“You think that she can help us?”

Trahearne smiled warmly “I can think of no better place to begin our journey than at the boughs of the Pale Tree. We need her wisdom for this battle.”

Gwyleon felt a mixture of warmness and anxiety for a moment. This was where his - no - their real journey would begin.

\---

The Grove itself seemed to welcome Gwyleon with open arms. He was fond of his home, even though he had been here just a day ago when he was recovering from his injuries.

There was once a time where he didn’t want to be here, among his people. He liked to think that he was a different person now. Stronger, and more reliable than he had ever been. Forgal had once been his guiding light, his best friend and he was determined to be just that to someone else one day.

‘When this is all over… I’ll go to Hoelbrak and tell them of Forgal’s achievements..’ he assured himself as he stepped into the seed capsule that would lift him to the Omphalos Chamber.

Trahearne had seemingly already been talking to their Pale Mother for some time. When he noticed Gwyleon’s arrival, a warm smile greeted him.

“Ah, you’re here Gwyleon. Come, we have much to speak about with our mother.”

“Of course” Gwyleon approached and bowed to the Pale Tree.

“Mother Tree” Trahearne began “I am sure by now you have heard of the destruction at Claw Island. Zhaitan is attacking in force. Many of our allies have fallen and we come seeking your wisdom.”

The Pale Tree’s gaze was incredibly solemn “The soul of Tyria mourned as her children were cut down by the beast. The land wept, and the world shuddered. You have been through much already, my children.”

Gwyleon wore a sad smile “We want to avenge those who have fallen to Zhaitan. Trahearne and I want to take back what the dragon has stolen. We want to take the fight to Orr. I hope that you can tell us something we may need to know for the battles ahead.”

“The answer is at the heart of Tyria's future - and your own. Both of you must face the darkness, become guiding stars in the night” the Pale Tree’s soft, melodic voice rang like bells.

“But… Is it even possible to defeat Zhaitan? To fell an Elder Dragon?” Gwyleon questioned.

The Pale Tree suddenly became quite serious “Only with great courage. Come. I will show you a vision of your future, and the challenges to come...”

Gwyleon felt a strange eerie breeze from behind him. He whipped around and stared in bewilderment at a tear in the fabric of the world. This must have been how the Pale Tree made Caithe tangible inside of The Dream the day he awoke.

Inside he could see reflections of what looked to be an Orrian landscape. He recalled how the ravaged continent looked when he had to pull Tegwen from the Orrian mirror. For some reason, he felt his shroud try to tug him away from the portal, as if it was a threat.

Trahearne registered Gwyleon’s pause. The Firstborn smiled and reached for Gwyleon’s hand and held it firmly. “Don’t worry, this is just a vision within The Dream. It’s dangerous, but we’ll go together.”

Gwyleon looked down at their conjoined hands and felt a warm blush creep on his face “Right… Together.”

The Pale Tree seemed to be intensely concentrated, her voice was strained a bit. “It is time, my brave friends. Your future... awaits.”

Stepping into the portal was like stepping into a swirling pool of quicksand. One moment they were standing in The Grove, the next they were seemingly right in the middle of Orr. The vision had breaks in various places that looked akin to broken glass. The risen who were populating the area were partly see-through and did not notice their presence.

Gwyleon felt Trahearne’s hand wrap tighter around his “Orr is a dark and foul place. Even though I have been here, in truth, this vision is unsettling.”

Gwyleon looked around and breathed in the foul-smelling air. Being with Trahearne made him feel strangely calm for some reason.

“We’re in this together, Trahearne. Come, let’s see what the Pale Tree wants to show us.”

They had traveled for a little while down the broken path. Gwyleon had noticed that Trahearne was fumbling with his knapsack. The Firstborn promptly pulled out a journal and started scribbling elaborate descriptions of their surroundings with great speed. Gwyleon felt an amused smile tug on the corners of his lips.

Risen phased through them like mist, though the further they got into Orr, the more Gwyleon felt like dead white eyes were staring at him.

“It’s hard to imagine what this place looked like before… Well.. This” Gwyleon mumbled.

“They say that Orr was once beautiful. A nation to rival Kryta, Ascalon, and Elona” Trahearne spoke idly as he was writing in his little journal. “The human gods lived in the city of Arah, and the people here were blessed. After the gods left, the humans banded into guilds and warred upon each other. The Guild Wars caused great devastation, and the nations faltered.”

“The Guild Wars eh? I’ve read a bit about them, but I’m admittedly not particularly interested in human lore... “ he said.

The vision of the Pale Tree appeared before them with wisps of white light.

“Where does this road lead, Mother?” Trahearne asked as he looked up from his journal.

“To the ancient city of Arah, the dragon's stronghold” the Pale Tree pointed towards a huge decaying hall to the South East. “That is your goal. Along the way, you will glimpse things that may yet come to pass.”

Within that moment, a vision of a zombie passed right in front of them. It paused for a moment and stared at Gwyleon with cold, half-decayed eyes. A cold shiver ran down Gwyleon’s spine as he realized that the risen in this vision were much more powerful than the ones he had seen before.

“These creatures are formidable” Trahearne waved his hand through the mist of the zombie before it limped away “Tougher than the ones at Claw Island. How will we defeat them?”

The Pale Tree shook her head “Alone, you cannot. But with unity, you will find that many impossible things can be achieved.”

With those words, the vision of the Pale Tree disappeared into a bright shining wisp that dashed away to a nearby camp. Trahearne and Gwyleon chased the light to the camp. They stopped abruptly when they spotted a vision of Trahearne addressing at large group of Vigil, Priory, and Order of Whispers soldiers.

Gwyleon’s emerald eyes flickered between the vision of Trahearne and the real Trahearne. The Firstborn stared at the vision with a dumbfounded expression.

“Defenders of Tyria!” The vision of Trahearne shouted with a strong, commanding voice. “When Zhaitan rose from slumber, the dragon found a long-dead nation and claimed it. The dragon expected the rest of Tyria to be as easily conquered. But we live, and we breathe, and we fight! All races, all orders, and all paths of life stand against Zhaitan. The dragon is a fearsome enemy. It wants nothing more than to paralyze us with doubt. But I tell you this - we are not afraid! We will never kneel!”

Gwyleon jumped as a furious roar filled the air. It was a roar of agony, a roar meant to inspire fear.

“Do you feel that? The dragon hears us!” The vision of Trahearne shouted above the roar “To Arah, and victory!”

The vision of Trahearne and the order members disappeared with the sound of glass being broken. All that was left in the camp was a lingering purple miasma. The Pale Tree appeared next to them shortly after.

Trahearne shut his journal with a soft thump and stuffed it back into his knapsack. He heaved a sigh and looked up at the Pale Tree “Is this a vision of the future? Mother, I do not understand. I'm no general.”

The Pale Tree smiled “You must be what Tyria needs you to be, my son. You have more courage than you realize.”

Gwyleon felt a little conflicted at those words. Was the Pale Tree forcing Trahearne into something that he didn’t necessarily want to do? The idea of destiny being forced upon upon the Firstborn made a confused anger boil in his stomach.

It wasn’t that he thought that Trahearne couldn’t be a great leader. He saw many good qualities in the Firstborn after all. It was the idea that the Pale Tree may be forcing her will onto her children that bothered him. His trust wavered for a moment until he felt Trahearne’s hand resting on his shoulder.

“Come, Gwyleon. There is still much for us to see” Trahearne’s calm voice brought him back to his senses.

Further down the path, the Pale Tree was waiting next to visions of Rytlock Brimstone and Logan Thackeray.

“The past taints the future. Our heroes have fallen. They must be redeemed” she said.

The vision of Rytlock Brimstone snarled in Logan’s face “Where were you? We needed you! Snaff...I couldn't protect him. I can still hear him screaming.”

Logan stomped on the ground and pointed at Rytlock “Someone was going to die, no matter what I did - Snaff, or my queen. I had to make a choice. You would have done the same, any of you, if the person you loved was in danger! You would have done the same…”

Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted. He had seen this kind of argument before. Back in Lion’s Arch before he met Forgal, he had met Destiny’s Edge.

“Destiny's Edge disbanded after their loss against the Elder Dragon Kralkatorrik. To this day, they have unresolved grievances with one another” Trahearne explained.

Shortly after, the vision of Rytlock and Logan was replaced by Zojja, Eir, and Garm.

“It was your responsibility. Snaff trusted you, and you failed him!” Zojja had tears running down her face.

“I tried to keep him out of danger. I would have given anything to prevent his death!” Eir retorted desperately “I did everything that I could, Zojja!”

Zojja sniffled and glared at Eir with fiery eyes “It wasn't enough! You weren't enough. You should have died, Eir, instead of him…”

“Yikes…” Gwyleon mumbled.

Trahearne nodded “The breaking of Destiny’s Edge was not a calm one. Zojja in particular was greatly affected… While Logan was called away by his queen, Eir chose to fight the Elder Dragon. They lost. Glint died, along with Snaff, Zojja's mentor and friend.”

Suddenly what was once the vision of Eir, Zojja, and Garm was now a vision of Caithe and Faolain. Gwyleon’s head tilted in confusion. Faolain was never a part of Destiny’s Edge. Why was she appearing here?

The vision of Caithe had dark circles under her eyes as she looked solemnly at the ground “I've tried so very hard. They can't stop arguing. They can't understand that the dragons are more important. They'd throw everything away! I'm alone” she whimpered “And I'm tired.”

Faolain wrapped her arms around Caithe and hugged her close “Come back to me. If the world must end, let us spend our last days in each other's arms.”

The vision faded into a purple mist. Gwyleon looked over to Trahearne who was staring ahead with an unreadable expression.

“My apologies” he said “These visions must represent a possible future for Destiny's Edge should they not resolve their quarrels. We need them to reconcile if we're to defeat Zhaitan.”

“I see why you were so worried about me falling to Nightmare. I had no clue that Caithe’s lover was the Duchess of the Nightmare Court…”

“I do not wish to see any of my dear friends fall to Nightmare” Trahearne smiled warmly as he took out his journal again. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The Guild Wars” he began scribbling as they walked again. “Still angry over the loss of Ascalon, the Charr struck hard while humanity fought with itself. The Charr ravaged Ascalon with searing cauldrons and marched on Orr. As hope failed, an Orrian named Vizier Khilbron read the Lost Scrolls and unleashed an ancient curse. The curse annihilated the charr army, but it destroyed Orr as well. A cataclysm plunged the nation into the ocean. Everything was lost.”

Gwyleon frowned as he listened to Trahearne’s story of the events that happened prior to the Sylvari. The lingering idea of Trahearne’s hopelessness made a sadness prickle at his heart. Nevertheless, the duo continued walking until they reached a cave-like structure.

The Pale Tree appeared before them and gestured to the entrance “This is the tomb of the kings of Orr. Walk inside, and seek truth; but be warned - the future can change in the blink of an eye…”

The inside of the tomb was wet and dreary. Spider webs clung to the walls and some kind of sickly green slime oozed from the cracks in the worn stone. Up ahead, Gwyleon spotted some kind of eye-like creature floating silently. The piercing red gaze of the creature bore into Gwyleon’s heart.

Gwyleon narrowed his eyes and drew his greatsword in preparation for battle. Without a word, he sunk his feet into the ground and charged at the eye. He swung his thorn at the creature with a powerful shadowy force, but his blade only met air as the creature faded into nothing. Gwyleon grit his teeth with annoyance. He was getting tired of the illusions really quickly.

Trahearne made a soft gasp as a half-translucent human appeared before them. The human was dressed in golden Orrian armour. His hair was pitch black and his gaze was devoid of life.

“The Last King of Orr! King Reza!” Trahearne whispered excitedly and furiously scribbled in his journal. Gwyleon rolled his eyes in amusement.

“To see the sky...feel once more the wind, and the sun...although my nation has drowned, a slow blood still pulses in its veins. Orr was once the heart of Tyria, so full of life. I was the last of a line of proud rulers. Now, my nation is enslaved. What do you seek here? Orr has nothing left to give, save ash and bones.”

Gwyleon’s amused expression became serious “We came here to kill Zhaitan and purify Orr, is there anything you can tell us?”

King Reza stared ahead as if he wasn’t paying attention to Gwyleon’s words “Zhaitan can be defeated, but that will not save Orr. The land must be cleansed of this poison. Seek the source…”

“Whoa whoa, source? What source? Is there some other poison that fouls Orr? Please tell us!” Gwyleon became increasingly frantic as the vision began to disappear.

“Seek the source...Cleanse Orr...Seek...the source…” the words whispered fleetingly in his ears as Kind Reza vanished.

“Ugh!” Gwyleon rubbed his face and faced Trahearne “We were so close too, I’m getting really tired of all these visions. I want answers, not whispers.”

Trahearne smiled as he stowed away his journal “Honestly, I’m quite content with this bit of information. This means that Orr can be cleansed, and that’s something that gives me hope.”

Gwyleon sighed “Well... that’s at least a start… We should get out of here before I start going crazy.”

The last stretch to Arah was filled with incredibly powerful risen. There were several camps scattered about the landscape that held visions of nameless soldiers.

The idea that Zhaitan had an almost unending supply of Orrian corpses to make minions out of was horrifying. Gwyleon recalled stories in The Dream of how Zhaitan had brought the nation back to the surface with its power after the Cataclysm. It seemed like the dragons would not stop their rampage until all life on Tyria was destroyed for good.

At last, the two Sylvari had reached the stairs that led up to the gates of Arah. Gwyleon felt his feet ache at the sight. Rows of muddied statues dedicated to the human gods lined each side of the hall. Risen zombies were patrolling the area diligently.

They halted as the Pale Tree appeared before them again. She looked tired but still wore a smile on her face. “Your last challenge on the road to Arah will be the guardian of the gate. Beyond this...I cannot foretell.”

“Guardian of the gate?” Gwyleon asked curiously. ‘What a boring name…’

The Pale Tree approached Trahearne and Caladbolg appeared in her hands. The glittering Sylvari blade shined warmly as she offered it to the Firstborn. “Once before, I gave this sword to a beloved son. Now, I pass it on to you, Trahearne. Bear it with honor, and the sword will never fail you.”

Trahearne gently picked the sword up from the Pale Trees hands and looked up with golden eyes “I… Thank you mother. I won’t fail” he stammered.

“Test yourselves against the guardian, then return to me in the Grove” she said as she disappeared into a brilliant white mist.

Gwyleon smirked “Looks like you’ve got a cool sword like me now. Guess I had a better taste in weapons.”

Trahearne cast an unamused glance at Gwyleon and then looked at the blade in wonder “I never thought that I’d be the one to bear Caladbolg. But I fear that the Pale Tree might expect too much from someone like me...” He trailed off into a soft murmur.

“Hey” Gwyleon wrapped his hand around Trahearne’s arm firmly and pulled him a bit closer. “You’re so much more than you think you are… I can think of no one better to wield this blade than you, Trahearne.”

Gwyleon noticed a bright golden blush creep onto Trahearne’s cheeks. His ears tilted backwards as he realized his actions and released the Firstborn in a flurry of embarrassment.

“Er… Sorry, I just don’t want you feeling sad. I’m here to help you, so please allow me to.”

“Heh…” Trahearne chuckled “I’m glad that you’re here with me. Let’s finish this so that we can go back to The Grove.”

At the top of the stairs, the guardian of the gate stood. A massive silver longsword was gripped tightly in its hands. It was wearing black spiked armour, but its white, risen eyes stared forward menacingly.

Gwyleon drew his acid-green thorn and ran his hand along the side of the blade. He exchanged a glance with Trahearne before he reached out with his sword and summoned a ghastly claw that grabbed the feet of the guardian and dragged it towards him.

A furious screech left the creature as Gwyleon stabbed his blade into its torso. He dug the tip into the black armour and pierced the guardian’s sickly green flesh beneath.

The guardian wasn’t easily defeated though. The risen wrapped its gloved hands around Gwyleon’s blade and pushed him backwards onto the stone floor. With a swift motion the guardian lifted itself off the ground and charged at Gwyleon.

Gwyleon gasped as he raised his blade in front of him to block the attack from the guardian. His green eyes locked with those of the the creature for a dreadful moment. He was about to activate his shroud when he saw the tip of Caladbolg pierce through the creature and rip upwards, splitting it in two.

A rancid, slimy black liquid splattered onto Gwyleon’s face as the guardian fell into a heap of armour and flesh. He spat in disgust.

Gwyleon was helped back to his feet by Trahearne who looked at the messy Sylvari in amusement. Gwyleon narrowed his eyes at the Firstborn, almost daring him to say something snide.

Within a few silent moments, the vision faded in its entirety, along with the black slime. What was once Orr was just a memory.

The sound of songbirds and rustling leaves comforted Gwyleon as he realized he was back in the Omphalos chamber.

The Pale Tree’s golden light sparkled “Once more, you stand on sacred ground. Remember what you have seen... Orr has had all hope stripped from it. To confront the dragon, you must first overcome your greatest fear, lest you be consumed by it. Tell me, what do you fear, Gwyleon?”

Gwyleon thought back to the attack on Claw Island and to Forgal’s sacrifice. He wished that he had been strong enough to save his friend. Forgal could still be here today if he had been stronger. He looked at the Pale Tree with sad, yet determined eyes “I fear that one day an innocent person who believed in me could die because I wouldn’t be strong enough to save them…”

The Pale Tree smiled “You are a good person, Gwyleon. That you seek to protect the innocent shows your gentle heart. Hold fast to that earnestness; it will also be your strength.”

“I’ll remember your words and take them with me to battle, mother.”

“To know the future, even a mere possibility, can be a great burden. I am sorry, brave heroes, that you must walk this path.”

Gwyleon almost felt like she wasn’t entirely truthful in her statement. She surely didn’t have an issue with presenting such an important fate to Trahearne before.

“Must these things come to pass, Mother? Must I take up Caladbolg and travel into the heart of Orr?” Trahearne’s unsure voice grabbed his attention.

“You must both take up this mantle. Trahearne, your duty is to cleanse Orr. Your friend shall aid you...and then face the dragon.”

“She’s right… I’ll be with you every step of the way, you can count on me” Gwyleon smiled “We will retake Claw Island together first.”

The Pale Tree suddenly looked very grim “I fear that will not be your first test. The dragon seeks to destroy its enemies before they can strike. I see within the Dream that Zhaitan's forces enter battle - not against Lion's Arch, but at the heart of your Order.”

Gwyleon felt a cold chill strike him “What? The Vigil Headquarters all the way in Gendarran Fields? How could Zhaitan even know?!”

“Those who have been corrupted reveal everything to Zhaitan. Nothing is secret, least of all those places where his enemies hide” the Pale Tree explained.

“I will not see more of my friends slaughtered. They have no warning! I must go to them” Gwyleon announced commandingly.

Trahearne grabbed Gwyleon’s hand “I will go with you. Our fates are bound together, and from this day forward, we fight as one.”

Gwyleon’s eyes looked down at their conjoined hands and he felt himself calm down a bit. Trahearne was right. He wasn’t alone, and he was glad that he wasn’t.

\---

As the Sylvari duo approached Vigil Keep, the sight of the dead Vigil corpses in front of them made Gwyleon unspeakably furious. These were his allies, his friends.

“Zhaitan's showing more intelligence. Striking at the heart of your order? It's almost unfathomable” Trahearne stated.

Warmaster Efut came scuttling down the ramp and towards the two Sylvari. Her blade was covered in black risen blood.

“Warmaster Gwyleon! Trahearne! Thank the alchemical processes that inspired your presence. We're under siege!”

“ _Yeah.. I got that hint already_ ” Gwyleon grumbled as he stared a the huge bone trebuchets that were lining the front of the Vigil Keep. They were catapulting abominations and putrid balls of flesh onto the walls.

“Follow me, we need to get rid of those trebuchets!” Gwyleon commanded to the group as he pulled his greatsword off of his back.

Upon even approaching the trebuchets, a massive bone wall splintered the ground below and shielded the bulk of the risen force from attack on the ground. Gwyleon stumbled backwards and glared furiously at the huge bones that blocked his path.

“Blast! What kind of foul magic was that? We must reconfigure our strategy!” Efut shouted.

Trahearne gripped Caladbolg tightly “Bone walls! Those require powerful magic. We face no mere footsoldiers - there's an Orrian Vizier in there!”

“Thorns!” Gwyleon cursed “They've cut us off! The Orrians are protecting the weaponry that's battering our keep's fortifications. We have to destroy those siege engines!”

Warmaster Efut gestured towards the catapults at the far end of the wall “Vigil Keep has defensive weaponry on the far ramparts, but they were damaged in the first assault. We didn't have the manpower to repair them. There’s a blacksmith up there who could fix them if we secure a path for her. Once we destroy the risen trebuchets we can kill the Vizier.”

“Sounds good. Let’s get to the top of those walls as fast as possible!”

Gwyleon and his group made easy work of the risen that were assaulting the top of the walls. They were no match for the two Necromancers and Warmaster Efut. The Vigil soldiers cheered as Gwyleon cut down the risen in his way.

“It's the Warmaster! We're saved!” One soldier shouted.

“Hail, Warmaster! Good to see ya.”

“Praise Wolf that you're here, Warmaster!”

Gwyleon would have felt more proud of himself, but he was more focused on saving the rest of the Vigil Troops that were being overrun.

“Movement in the keep...Oh! It's the General. Stand at attention!” Efut commanded as General Soulkeeper, Laranthir, and another Vigil recruit emerged from the inner portions of the keep.

“Hostiles eradicated in the inner keep. They were tunneling under the walls, the rotten scum” Almorra hissed.

Gwyleon saluted General Soulkeeper and rested his sword on his shoulder “Reporting for duty, General! I hope you don't mind that I brought my partner with me” he gestured to Trahearne whose cheeks were dusted with a soft golden dust.

“Warmaster Gwyleon! Trahearne too! I’m glad you’re here, we need every soldier that we can find to repel this attack. Warmaster Efut, status report!”

“I’m sorry, General, there’s an Orrian wizard down there who blocked the way with those huge bone walls. We weren’t able to get through” Efut announced stoically.

“We may have a solution. Efut told us that there’s a blacksmith here who can repair our of our trebuchets. If we can get one working, we can destroy those siege weapons” Gwyleon explained.

Trahearne nodded “If we can destroy those Orrian siege weapons from above, there will be nothing left to defend. The Vizier will have to lower the barrier.”

“Without those walls, I’m confident that the mission will succeed. This time, nothing will stop us” Efut agreed.

“Good suggestion. You take care of those siege weapons and Laranthir and I will defend the wall. Move out!” Almorra commanded.

Gwyleon saluted once more before he gestured his allies to follow him towards the far ramparts. A lone norn woman was standing on a raised platform. She was smashing risen heads like watermelons with her hammer.

“Bring it on, you Risen dung beetles! You won't break this steel!” she shouted.

“There she is! Blacksmith Vanhe!” Efut called from behind.

“Hyaah!” Gwyleon shouted in fury as he cleaved through a group of risen brutes. His sword slicing through them like butter. He dug the tip of his blade into a zombie that was squirming on the ground. He looked up and saw an abomination barreling towards him, it’s mouth dripping with a black ooze.

Gwyleon tried to lift his blade from the risen body, but some sticky substance held his sword in place. His heart skipped a beat in panic as he ducked in preparation for the blow.

Trahearne’s shout broke through the sounds of battle as he sent a bolt of white-hot magic at the abomination from the blade of Caladbolg. The creature was pushed backwards and ignited with a white flame until it fell to its knees.

Upon realization that he was safe, Gwyleon stepped on the risen body below him and ripped his sword from its flesh. He cast a grateful glance at Trahearne before he turned to Vanhe who was already almost finished repairing the trebuchet with the protection of Efut.

With a final swing of her hammer, the norn woman had finished the last repair. She turned to Gwyleon and patted him on the shoulder “There you go, Warmaster. Good as new! Let 'em have it!”

Gwyleon sucked in an unsure breath as he looked at the contraption. The last time that he was faced artillery like this, Forgal had been the one to hit the target, not him.

He steeled his nerves after a few moments and loaded a mortar into the trebuchet. He spun handle on the side of the machine to rear it backwards. With the flip of a lever, his mortar was sent flying and smashed directly into two of the bone trebuchets below.

Gwyleon’s ears perked triumphantly. With his realization that he could use the weapon, he loaded another mortar and sent it flying towards the last of the Orrian artillery bellow. Once the last of the weapons was destroyed, he heard General Soulkeeper’s battlecry ring out.

“Fight to your last breath! To your last bit of courage! We stand between Tyria and death, and we cannot fail!”

Gwyleon’s group met up with the rest of the Vigil Soldiers who were charging towards the rest of the risen forces. Surprisingly, the Vigil had the upper hand and were slaughtering the zombies that were left on the ground. Gwyleon was only able to fell a few zombies before the Vizier appeared.

She looked like a risen soldier, but she was more alive than any of the minions he had seen as far as intelligence. Her head was that of a bloodied skull which was only attached to her body by decaying ligaments. Her staff was made of bone and radiated a powerful dark magic.

The black, shadowy figure glared ferociously at Gwyleon for disrupting her plans.

“Look, there! It's their leader. Take her down, and the battle is won!” Trahearne cried.

“The breath of life shall leave you...I shall watch it fail!” the Orrian Vizier channeled a ball of fiery dark magic into her hand while she lifted her staff into the air.

Gwyleon sheathed his sword and grinned toothily “You’ll never have the pleasure of seeing me fall, you slime” he hissed.

Gwyleon’s shroud seeped out from under his planty flesh and coated his body defensively. His long, menacing scythe burned into existence in his grasp.

The Vizier sent the ball of darkness flying at Gwyleon, but he blocked the attack with the blade of his scythe. He felt so powerful, so eager to kill and steal the souls of those who stood in his way.

“Suffer!” Gwyleon shouted as he swung his scythe at the Vizier. A freezing blast of ice magic froze her feet to the ground and made her unable to move. His blade cut cleanly through her arm as she released an agonizing wail.

The Vizier glared up at Gwyleon with green eyelights in her skull. She smashed her staff into the ground and commanded black fire to strike at Gwyleon. Much to her surprise, the fire only ate into his reserve life force instead of causing him injury.

The Sylvari Necromancer reached down and wrapped his shadowy fingers around her neck. He lifted her into the air and grinned beneath the shroud “I’ll teach Zhaitan to never underestimate me or my allies” he hissed. He commanded his shroud to leech the life force from the Vizier as she squirmed in agony.

The risen Vizier disappeared into nothing but a black wisp of magic as Gwyleon siphoned the rest of the energy from her. He found that this magic wasn’t entirely unlike his own, and his body didn’t reject it like it had with the Mazdak’s life force.

When Gwyleon turned around, he almost expected some kind of reprimand from Trahearne, but he was met with nothing but a warm smile as his shroud disappeared.

“Well done, crusaders. The Orrians are defeated, and the keep is safe! Three cheers for the Vigil!” Gwyleon shouted in victory.

“Hoorah! Victory for the Vigil!” the voices of the crusaders called out in unison.

Trahearne came to stand next to Gwyleon “I’m glad that we arrived when we did… The Pale Tree was right. If Vigil Keep had fallen, we'd never be able to defend Lion's Arch or retake Claw Island.”

Gwyleon nodded “Do you remember what she said? "With unity, many impossible things can be achieved.” The vision we saw showed all three orders fighting as one. We may not be able to fight Zhaitan alone, but there is another way."

Trahearne reached down and grabbed Gwyleon’s hand “Whatever you plan to do, I promise I will stand with you.”

Gwyleon felt his heart skip as he met Trahearne’s golden stare. He could almost imagine Forgal making some kind of knowing smirk in his mind. “Thank you, Trahearne. I will do the same for you. Come, I’d like to tell General Soulkeeper my plan.”

Gwyleon approached the General and went to salute her, but he was most surprised when her, Laranthir, and Efut bowed to him instead. “Warmaster, your timing was fortuitous. You and Trahearne have saved our order.”

“I… Umm..” Gwyleon stuttered in confusion.

“If you don't mind” Trahearne spoke for Gwyleon “We need to brief you on recent events. Much has occurred in a very short time.”

Gwyleon cleared his throat “General, I’m convinced that the Vigil will not be able to face Zhaitan alone. We have an army, but we don’t have the information our resources at our disposal.”

Almorra Soulkeeper scratched her chin in thought for a moment “Huh. If it were anyone other than you, Warmaster, I might think you were a coward. But after what you did on the field today, continue.”

“The other orders of Tyria are as concerned about the dragons as we are. The Vigil should speak with them and launch a unified effort” Trahearne said.

Gwyleon nodded “I agree, the Vigil should be making alliances, not enemies of those who also want to fight the dragons”

Efut looked taken aback at the suggestion “Speak with them? But… But… The Order of Whispers are underhanded backstabbers, and the Priory are simpering scholars!”

Trahearne’s expression became very firm, much like the expression he had seen when he himself said something dumb “You're wrong, Efut. They simply have their own ways of fighting Zhaitan. Both would be staunch allies in the war.”

Efut was about to protest again, but General Soulkeeper silenced the asura with a wave of her claws “ I don't like it, and I don't trust them. But I do trust you, Warmaster Gwyleon. And I trust Trahearne. If he says we're up against overwhelming odds, I believe him. Go to the other orders. Set up a meeting. Tell them the Vigil offers an alliance.”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted forwards “Of course, General! I’ll do everything that I can to assure this alliance goes through.”

“I’m sure you will. Come, Laranthir, Efut. We have some repairs to do in the meantime.”

Gwyleon felt a giddy anxiety burning in his chest. This alliance was the key to taking back Claw Island. Forgal would finally be avenged and they could press their way towards Orr at last.

Trahearne walked over and placed his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder. “You’ve done well, Gwyleon. This will be the beginning of a new chapter for Tyria, I know it.”

Gwyleon couldn’t help the warmness he felt in his chest that made his lips curl into a ditzy smile.

“ _We_ did well, Trahearne” Gwyleon emphasized “We will fight as one from this day forward.”

“I look forward to it” Trahearne smiled warmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit late! I've been up to my knees in College work! I'll try to post a chapter every week, if not sooner from now on! Enjoy!


	10. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am changing the rating now due to the ending of this chapter. I hope that you guys enjoy it! Because I had spent quite a long time trying to figure out how to write this. The sexual content is very tame for now, but it'll increase from here and further down the line.
> 
> Expect another chapter very soon! I was rather late with this one, so I'll make it up to you guys with another!

The city of Lion’s Arch was on complete lockdown since the fall of Claw Island. Citizens had fled to neighboring towns and those who were brave enough to stay were locked in their homes. What was once a lively, bustling city was now a ghost town that was guarded by a plethora of soldiers.

The Vigil had done a great job at keeping the city safe from rogue attacks along the beach. However, it was only a matter of time before the full force would attack the Lion’s Arch. The Vigil alone would not be able to stand up to Blightghast the Plaguebringer.

Gwyleon and Trahearne were instructed to meet the rest of the orders at the Claw Island portage docks. The plan was to negotiate an alliance between the Vigil, Priory, and Order of Whispers. If the alliance succeeded, they would be able to negotiate plans to take back Claw Island for good.

The problem was, alliances full of people who hated each other were tricky and fragile if there wasn’t a suitable leader.

At the Claw Island portage site, Gwyleon could already hear the arguing between the order leaders. He had expected as much considering the order representatives were no better at compromise. Why would their leaders be any better?

Almorra was the first one that Gwyleon noticed. Her eyes were half-lidded and her tail swished back and forth in hostility. Her eyes flickered between the two other leaders.

“So, I see Gixx stumbled out of his library, and the Preceptor crawled out of her hole!” Amorra spat.

Steward Gixx, a small dark gray Asura with black hair, was the leader of the Durmand Priory. He wore a smug expression that signified that he thought he was superior. His yellow eyes stared venomously at Almorra.

“I see you're not letting rationality get in the way of your ignorance, Almorra. How predictable” he sneered haughtily.

Almorra narrowed her eyes “Who are you calling ignorant, you twitchy little bookworm?”

An older gray charr with a broken tooth and dark sleepless eyes growled. This was Halvora Snapdagger, she was present to represent the Order of Whispers. While she was not its sole leader, she was one of the most well known to Gwyleon. She was one of three preceptors within the Order of Whispers and was tasked with being their tactician. Halvora also wore the characteristic red and gold armour of her organization.

“Wonderful. I see we're off to a running start. The Order of Whispers needs allies, not infants” she hissed.

Trahearne breathed an aggravated sigh. He must have lost quite a bit of his patience since Gwyleon last saw him dealing with the order representatives in the Grove all those months ago.

“Enough bickering, all of you!" Trahearne demanded. "Our real enemy lurks across the waves! Zhaitan's servants march at the gates of Lion's Arch. We must band together, or we will all be destroyed. Now please, Warmaster Gwyleon was the one who arranged this meeting, I believe he has something to say.”

Gwyleon suddenly felt incredibly small with so many eyes locked onto him. It wasn’t just the leaders of the orders who were here, but their companions as well. Laranthir and Efut had accompanied General Soulkeeper, and Steward Gixx had brought along a very eager-looking Sylvari female and a hard-faced norn woman.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gwyleon spotted Tybalt standing with the Order of Whispers. His armour matched theirs, though he looked quite different than when he had last seen the Charr. Tybalt offered him a sheepish wave.

Gwyleon smiled and sucked in a deep breath “When I joined the Vigil, I had made bringing down Zhaitan my purpose. _I will die_ , if I must, to protect my world, _our world_. The Vigil has done an amazing job at keeping this city safe from the undead so far, why would the other orders back down in the face of this threat?”

Gwyleon turned to Tybalt and Halvora “The Order of Whispers has been around for a very long time, but you cannot simply hide from this threat. Zhaitan aims to destroy everyone right at this very moment.”

His eyes flickered to Gixx “And the Priory knows more about the rise of the dragons than any other order. What is knowledge without a way to use it to help others? Surely you can think of all the valuable information there is on the lost continent of Orr just waiting to be discovered, too.”

Gixx narrowed his eyes at Gwyleon in scrutiny, but his face softened after a couple seconds of thought.

“By the whorls of the Eternal Alchemy, you're bold! But… you're correct. Knowledge is useless if it is not used. The Priory will aid in this fight against Zhaitan” Gixx smiled toothily.

Halvora Snapdagger nodded “I agree, you are correct. The Order of Whispers has worked for generations to bring nations together. We will not stand by and see Tyria fall to Zhaitan. Our blades are yours, Sylvari.”

Gwyleon then turned to General Almorra, who stared at him with bright yellow eyes. She rubbed her spiked chin with her claw in thought.

“The Vigil agrees with these statements, even if they’re from two ill-disciplined louts from the Priory and Whispers" Almorra snorted "We will, of course, aid you in this fight. However, I insist that there’s a decent hierarchy. Who exactly will lead this compact?”

“Logic dictates that it cannot be a member of one of the orders. If that were to happen, one order would be seen as above the other two” Gixx explained calmly.

Gwyleon thought about what he was going to say for a brief moment. His emerald eyes looked over to Trahearne, who was seemingly unaware of what position he was about to be placed in. Gwyleon didn’t want to be like the Pale Tree. He didn’t want to force roles upon his allies because of some stupid idea of destiny. Unfortunately, Trahearne was the only one present who fit the bill of not being a part of any order. Trahearne was a great leader, and this would help him further his Wyld Hunt. Perhaps it would be beneficial for everyone if he was to be their leader.

“Yes, that is true, but I’ve already thought of a perfect leader” Gwyleon said as he walked over to Trahearne. Trahearne looked at him with wide eyes as he placed his hand on the Firstborn’s shoulder.

“Trahearne, you haven’t joined an order, and yet all of these leaders respect you. You’ve devoted your whole life to the study of Orr. Will you lead us?”

Trahearne’s ears tilted downwards as his eyes shifted between Gwyleon and the order leaders. He looked positively stunned. After a short pause, Trahearne smiled and placed his hand on top of Gwyleon's.

“Honestly, I had never seen myself as a soldier, let alone. My whole life, I have been a simple scholar who was looking for some kind of hope of completing my Wyld Hunt. I see that now, my hope is standing right in front of me.”

Gwyleon was sure that the statement was directed at him with how Trahearne looked into his eyes. His heart jumped in his chest.

“I will lead this pact to the gates of Arah. Together, we will see Zhaitan destroyed once and for all” Trahearne declared.

General Almorra crossed her arms and nodded “Wise choice, Warmaster Gwyleon. I look forward to seeing what this pact can accomplish.”

“Indeed. There is much work to be done” Gixx stated.

“The Order of Whispers approves” Halvora grumbled “Now is the time to act.”

The three leaders had decided that they would convene on their plans to retake Claw Island on one of the ships. There was but a short time where Gwyleon was free to do what he wanted before they were ready for the assault.

Shortly after Trahearne and the leaders departed into the ship to discuss their plans, Gwyleon was approached by the jumpy Sylvari he saw standing next to Gixx.

“Ooh, you must be Gwyleon, of the Vigil! My name is Magister Sieran” she said happily.

Sieran was a dark chestnut-colored Sylvari. The leaves on her head were dark reddish brown and her bright blue eyes sparkled with wonder. She wore the typical dull blue robe that most of the Priory displayed.

“Yes, that’s me. I’m actually quite surprised that you know who I am” Gwyleon rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve heard of your bravery at Claw Island” Sieran explained “We have all heard what happened there. A dragon champion! I can only imagine!”

“Blightghast the Plaguebringer. It’s appearance really um… Solidified the risen victory” Gwyleon trailed off a bit at the thought.

“Oh! I apologize, it must be painful to think of the experience. Many brave soldiers were lost during the attack.”

“Yes, but I have hope that we will retake Claw Island” Gwyleon smiled sadly.

“Oho what’s going on here? Sylvari come in _pears_ now?” Tybalt’s amused voice cut in as he approached the two Sylvari.

“Ahaha! Good joke!” Sieran laughed a bit more than she should have at the pun.

Gwyleon rolled his eyes “I thought you were an apple salesperson, Tybalt. You didn’t tell me that you were a member of the Whispers!”

“Pff” Tybalt scoffed “Why would I tell anyone that when I’m at a bar? Sheesh, I have to live up to the name of the order somehow.”

“Hmm, I guess that’s true…” Gwyleon said as he rubbed his chin in thought.

“Anyway, that was a pretty good speech you gave there. I didn’t think the order leaders would cave so easily. You must have some sway with them” Tybalt crossed his arms.

“This is true, I’ve never seen Gixx act that way, he’s usually calling me all sorts of plant-related names. To think he’d listen to another Sylvari is quite interesting!” Sieran chimed.

Gwyleon looked towards the leaders, who were still discussing plans for the attack “I’m not sure. I’d like to think they care more about Trahearne than me, which is perfectly fine, considering he’s now our leader.”

“Well, I think you’re great!” Sieran said cheerfully “I expect you’ll help us oncover tons of information on Orr, I can’t wait!”

Tybalt chuckled “I will not be present in Orr, though I am here for this negotiation. Afterwards, to retake Claw Island. It all sounds pretty cool! Erm… I mean, dangerous!”

“Well, I look forward to fighting with both of you. No one stands alone in this fight.”

Just at the crest of the hill, a large group of Vigil Soldiers, Priory researchers, and Whispers agents had appeared from the Asura gates. The leaders had called on every available member that they could so that they stood a fighting chance against Blightghast. They all marched down the hill in unison and started boarding the boats that would soon leave for the Island.

The morning sun was just barely peeking over the horizon and washing the landscape with a brilliant golden light.

“Impressive” Tybalt said “We stand quite the fighting chance with this group.”

“I’d sure hope so” Trahearne cut in as he approached the trio.

“Ooh! Firstborn Trahearne!” Sieran hopped excitedly “I’m so happy you’re leading us! You’ll do great!”

“Hey Trahearne, good to see ya” Tybalt greeted.

“Thank you, Sieran. I trust your time in the Priory has been well? And hello Tybalt! I didn’t expect to see you here, if I am to be honest” Trahearne smiled awkwardly.

Gwyleon grinned. He was happy, if for a few moments. He hoped that this was exactly what Forgal wanted. Allies coming together to defeat something greater. Soon, he would have revenge for the Norn's sacrifice. Blightghast the Plaguebringer would die today.

“Either way, the leaders and I have finished discussing our plans.” Trahearne looked at Gwyleon with bright golden eyes and a warm smile “Gwyleon will be spearheading the assault after the gate is down. I trust that with you at the head, we will have no issues culling the risen. I’ve also been notified that the Priory has a special experimental weapon that can utilize the power within the signal towers to blast through the gate. We should be able to take control of the courtyard and Blightghast will be our target shortly after.”

Tybalt wiggled his eyebrows amusingly when he noticed Trahearne smiling Gwyleon

Gwyleon rolled his eyes, a soft green blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Firstborn Trahearne, I’d like to ask if I could accompany the Priory team. I am definitely ready!” Sieran clapped in elation.

“I should go with her, who knows what kind of trouble she could get into” Tybalt crossed his arms and cast an amused glance to Sieran.

“As you wish” Trahearne nodded.

Gwyleon smiled “We’ll be counting on you two to get the gate down. I’ll take care of the rest after that.”

Trahearne rested his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “Now, it’s time to take back Claw Island.”

\---

The pact had experienced very little resistance in the waves when they approached Claw Island. They had secured the docks, and were waiting to assault the main gate.

Gwyleon emerged from the hull of the ship with Trahearne and breathed in the thick, acidic miasma that covered the area. His heart ached in remembrance of the last time he was there.

Trahearne stood in front of Gwyleon and gazed at him with bright auric eyes.

“Whatever happens today, Gwyleon, we will fight as one” Trahearne said in a deep voice.

“Y-yes, of course!” Gwyleon fumbled. Trahearne was somehow incredibly talented at making him stumble and trip over his words.

A loud buzzing noise filled the air as the watchtower was filled with excess power from the Priory device. The light at the top shone brilliantly before a beam of chaotic energy blasted towards the front gate. Splinters of wood flew across the clearing as the gate shattered.

Warmaster Efut and Wynnet ran next to Trahearne and Gwyleon as they charged through the doorway to the inner courtyard. The risen that were running at them from inside were being cleaved down by waves of soldiers.

Trahearne made a gesture towards the upper ramparts of the keep “Come, We need to retake the ramparts and deploy siege weapons. Then we can cover the sky while we clear the courtyard. I'll be taking command from the platform overlooking the troops” Trahearne explained.

“I can help there” Wynnet said “Priory alchemists have crafted special ammunition to weaken champions like that one. We can force that monster to the ground.”

“Sounds good” Warmaster Efut interjected “Once you get it down, the rest of us will get it dead. Put your trust in Vigil steel!”

Gwyleon unsheathed his sword and carved through most of the enemies at the Western ramparts quite easily. With the help of the orders, the risen forces were being overrun. Even abominations were being taken down one by one with everyone's help.

He was at the front of the battle, the other soldiers lining up behind him as risen hylek shot poison darts at their shields. Gwyleon’s shroud coated him in darkness and the darts slipped through him like air. He dug his scythe deep into their rotting flesh and ended their corrupted lives with lightning-fast movements. The risen bodies choked out words about finally resting once they had been dispatched, as if they regained their consciousness for a brief moment of time.

With the Western ramparts secured, the soldiers were able to set up two trebuchets which would work to cover them from aerial attacks until they were ready. The sound of beating wings and horrible gurgling roars filled the air as Blightghast watched its minions being slaughtered. The green bubbles of tainted life force danced all around the courtyard for only Necromancers to see.

When Gwyleon had successfully escorted Trahearne to the top of the gate that overlooked the courtyard, he heard the beating of wings grow ever stronger.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone?” Gwyleon asked.

“Don’t worry about me” Trahearne winked “I have a few tricks.”

With a wave of his hand, Trahearne shouted “Rise!”. The ground beneath Gwyleon shook as Trahearne's Necromantic powers dug into the stone and earth. Five shadows condensed into flesh creatures that were only obedient to Necromancers. Two were long-range skeletal wurms that were stationed on either side of Trahearne. Another one looked like a floating rib cage with organs resting inside. Blood dripped from its twitching jaw. The other two were flesh golems - Strong, robust minions that were made of tough bone and ligaments. Gwyleon had read about them before, but he wasn’t very proficient in summoning minions.

“You’ll have to teach me that trick sometime” Gwyleon grinned.

“After this battle is won” Trahearne offered a smile as the light of Caladbolg shone brightly in his hands.

“I’ll capture the Eastern ramparts, then we should be in position to bring down the Plaguebringer.”

Trahearne nodded in approval and started calling orders to the troops who were fighting the risen within the courtyard.

Swiftly, Gwyleon ran over the bridge that led to the Eastern Ramparts. His eyes widened when he saw a risen abomination hovering over Galina Edgecrusher. Her teeth bared in resistance as the abomination tried to stomp on her while she was lying on the ground. Her sword was taking most of the brunt of the attack, but Gwyleon could see her arms starting to bend.

Gwyleon lashed out with a shadowy claw at the abomination, forcing it to pay attention to him instead of Galina. With a furious shout, he drew his sword back and thrust it into the chest of the risen and ripped it upwards. It’s body split into two and slid to the ground with a grotesque squelching noise.

“By Adelbern's gutted hide!” Galina coughed as she righted herself “Almost got my tail kicked there, thanks.”

Gwyleon’s eyes flickered towards the half-repaired trebuchet “You can thank me by getting this trebuchet up and running. We need it to bring down Blightghast. I’ll watch your back.”

“I’ll get this up and running then, give me a minute” Galina said as she took out a hammer and began making repairs.

Gwyleon looked up at Trahearne whose minions were brutally tearing apart any risen who had gotten too close. He gasped as he watched a risen plague carrier bolt through the outer minions and aim straight for Trahearne, who was calling out commands unknowingly.

Plaguebringers were known to explode on their foes in a sort of kamikaze attack.

“Trahearne!!” Gwyleon shouted desperately into the deafening sound of battle. He was about to run to the Firstborn, but Trahearne’s flesh golem quickly stepped in the way of the risen plague carrier and fronted the hit that was ultimately meant its master.

Gwyleon silently thanked the Pale Tree for the flesh golem. Unfortunately, Trahearne had seemed too preoccupied with commanding the troops below to hear Gwyleon call his name, so it wouldn't have mattered in the end. Gwyleon breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the Flesh Golem slowly regrow the skin that had melted off of it from the blast.

“There! Finished” Galina growled triumphantly. The mortar was loaded and the weapon was reared backwards and waiting to attack.

Gwyleon gave Galina a curt nod. His eyes turned to the sky as he saw a dark shadow pass overhead. A furious roar of agony rang over the sounds of swords and shouts. Gwyleon rushed down the steps and swung his greatsword into a group of risen which exploded into putrid green liquid.

“Prepare yourselves, troops!” Trahearne called as he saw the last trebuchet set for attack “Wait for the dragon to come around, then make a coordinated strike. On my order… Wait for it….” A sickening silence fell over the clearing as the dark shadow of Blightghast passed overhead. The beating of it's wings shook the leaves of the palm trees on the shoreline. “Fire!!” Trahearne shouted as Blightghast flew towards the clearing. The mortars were launched from the trebuchets and ripped into the dragon’s decaying wings. It roared in agony as it crashed to the ground at the Southern point of the island.

Gwyleon watched with wide eyes as the dragon fell from the sky. Smoke trailed from it as it smashed into the ground below. The dragon skidded forward, and dust scattered around them as it crashed into the wall that it had broken down during the first attack.

He raised his sword in the air and looked back at the troops “The time to strike is now! Bring down the Plaguebringer!!”

A loud resounding battle cry sounded over the clearing as Gwyleon led the charge towards the downed champion. It hissed in furious distress as it righted itself onto all fours. Its dead, white eyes stared directly at Gwyleon as he charged across the clearing.

Blightghast's roar filled the air as it’s huge, clawed hand came down onto the ground with an earth-shattering smash. Gwyleon dodged out of the way in time, but several vigil soldiers had been crushed into a fine bloody paste on the ground.

Trahearne had fear burning in his chest. This fear wasn’t for himself, but for Gwyleon. His heart sank into his stomach when he saw the dragon smash the vigil soldiers into the ground. A brief moment of relief washed over him when he saw Gwyleon dodge out of the way. As he studied the dragon's movements, he realized that the soldiers weren’t equipped to fight like this. His attention turned back to the trebuchets near him which were reloaded with flaming mortars.

“Fire at will!” Trahearne shouted commandingly “Cripple the beast!”

Flaming mortars launched from the trebuchets on the ramparts and crashed into the exposed spine of the dragon. Blightghast released a blood-curdling screech as the bone of it's spine splintered and whined. With its back unable to support it, the dragon fell onto it’s forearms. In one last attempt to fight, the beast sucked in a deep breath and released a green, acidic cloud into the air.

“Back away! It’s breath will eat into your flesh!” Gwyleon commanded as his shroud guarded him protectively in dark wisps. He wasn’t going to fall for that attack again, he had already witnessed it once. Behind him, soldiers were fleeing from the acid. Some were caught and cried out in agony as their skin melted off of their bones.

Gwyleon felt his life force waning as he stood in the acidic air. Even though his shroud protected him, he could feel the acid eating into his energy instead of his physical body. He gripped his scythe tightly in his hands as he willed his shroud to hold out. He knew that he wouldn’t have time to escape, he had to finish this. Here and now.

Gwyleon reared his scythe behind him and glared at Blightghast with defiant determination as an icy aura coated the blade. The creature glowered at him with a furious wrath buried deep in it’s dead eyes. It’s bone tail lashed furiously at the sandy beach.

“Send my regards to Zhaitan!” Gwyleon roared as he brought the blade of his scythe down right on the tip of the dragon’s skull.

A frozen, shadowy blast rippled over the top of the dragon and pushed away the acidic cloud. A black splintering crack rippled up the skull of the dragon and leaked a corrosive green mist. Blightghast screeched in tormented agony as it ripped its head from under Gwyleon and threw him backwards.

Gwyleon’s shroud dissipated as he finally ran out of life force. He dug his sword deep into the earth as he skidded backwards to steady himself. He felt utterly drained as he fell to his knees. His hands gripped tightly around the handle of his blade.

The dragon released one last harrowing screech before it reared up and fell backwards. With a mighty splash, it sunk beneath the waves of the Sea of Sorrows and was lost from sight.

A moment of eerie silence passed by before the soldiers started cheering “The Plaguebringer is no more! Claw Island is ours!” The cheers rang across the courtyard and from the docks where Tybalt and Sieran were waiting.

Gwyleon panted heavily as he anchored himself onto his feet with the handle of his sword. His body ached furiously and exhaustion threatened to bring him back to his knees.

His green eyes looked to the sky as he realized he had finally exacted his revenge. Even over the cheers, he could almost imagine the old norn’s voice telling him that he was proud.

The sound of footsteps behind him brought him back to his senses. The sound of celebration rang in his ears. He ripped his sword from the dirt and turned around only to be face-to-face with Trahearne.

Trahearne leaned forward and embraced Gwyleon in a hug. Gwyleon gasped at the sudden touch, his heart might as well have leapt out of his throat in happiness.

Trahearne released him and held onto his arms. “We did it” he said almost breathlessly “We’ve recaptured Claw Island - and in doing so, saved Lion’s Arch as well. I don’t know what lies ahead of us, Gwyleon, but for the first time, I have hope. I have hope that this alliance can can save Tyria from the dragons, and finally, hope... for Orr.”

Gwyleon’s arms felt like wet noodles, but he managed to rest his hands on Trahearne's shoulders. “Whatever happens in the future, know that I’ll always be at your side.”

Trahearne smiled warmly in gratitude. “Speaking of the future, there is a ruined fortress at the edge of Orr, south of the Shattercleft Hills. From that high cliff you can see the spires of Orr rising beyond the Straits of Devastation. We will take this fort and make it our own. The Pact will rebuild it. We will place our banners, and from there we will strike at the dragon's heart.”

“I’d like to be there when it’s being built, I-” Gwyleon was cut off when he felt his energy dwindle. His body leaned forward.

He expected to fall to the ground, but instead, he fell into Trahearne’s arms with a soft thud. The scent of old books and the Grove made him feel incredibly tired and strangely relaxed.

Trahearne smiled down at him “We wouldn’t have won this battle without you, but I think it’s about time that you rest considering how reckless you were just now.”

Gwyleon’s cheeks burned furiously as he realized where he was and what he was doing. He pushed himself away quickly and rubbed his face to awaken himself. He looked at a perplexed Trahearne with green eyes “Er.. What? Reckless?”

Trahearne rested his hands on hips “You stood in that acid cloud that could have easily killed you if you weren’t being protected.”

“Well I…” Gwyleon wrinkled his nose, a sudden feeling of irritance washing over him “I know what I’m doing, I’m not a sapling you know.”

“I don’t mean that.. I just… I was worried about you” Trahearne looked at the ground, his ears flattened.

His anger disappeared as soon as he heard Trahearne’s words and saw his downtrodden face. The sentiment left an indescribable feeling in his chest. The words and gestures of Trahearne constantly made him feel like he needed to be at his side at all times. He couldn’t deny it any longer, he had fallen hard for the Firstborn.

His thoughts were very quickly infiltrated with the idea that he could be alone in his feelings. What if all of these gestures and words had no meaning to them? Gwyleon didn't want to get his hopes up, but his mind couldn't stop thinking of Trahearne. Was there no way that he would think of Gwyleon as more than just an ally? His heart ached at the thought.

“I.. I promise I’ll be careful from now on.” Gwyleon murmured.

Trahearne looked up at him with bright eyes. Gwyleon couldn’t tell what was going on through the Firstborn’s head, but he desperately wished that he knew.

“Oh, also” Trahearne perked up “I’ve spoken to the leaders of each order, and they agreed that each would designate an individual leader for their troops in Orr, all reporting to me.”

Gwyleon folded his arms “I assume that Efut will be the leader of the Vigil, what about the other two?”

“For the order of Whispers, Doern Velaquez. For the Durmand Priory, Wynnet Fairhaired.”

“Hmm” Gwyleon rubbed his chin “So I should report to Warmaster Efut since I’m in the Vigil?”

Trahearne shook his head “No. Your place is at my side as second in command of the Pact. I need you to help me keep all three of the orders unified.”

“The Commander of the Pact?” Gwyleon questioned in surprise. Trahearne’s lips curled into a smile that made Gwyleon’s cheeks burn. “I… I’m honored to be your Commander, Trahearne.”

“Good, because I already need your help with something. You see, the fort that I mentioned earlier. I have been so occupied with Claw Island, I didn’t think of a name. I was wondering if you had any suggestions.”

Gwyleon ran his hand through his leafy hair “Jee, guess I’m the new Pact name-giver now” he chuckled.

Trahearne cast him an unamused look which was quickly replaced by a small laugh.

“Alright alright” Gwyleon smiled “I figure that we are three groups coming together as one, right? How about Fort Trinity?”

Trahearne smiled happily “That’s perfect! Our base of operations will be called Fort Trinity from today onward. Now, I must gather our resources and organize the troops to march south, to the coast of Orr.”

Gwyleon wrinkled his nose “You know that I plan to go with you, right?”

“Ah” Trahearne shrugged “I figured as much, you’re quite stubborn when it comes to these things.”

Gwyleon felt exhaustion on his legs again as he tried to walk. He was feeling incredibly slow. He jumped a bit when Trahearne wrapped his arm around his torso and tossed Gwyleon’s arm over his shoulders.

“But first, you’ve earned some rest. This was a great victory, and I’d like for you to enjoy it if only for a little bit.” Trahearne smiled as they walked forward.

Gwyleon felt his sap race in his ears as he walked so closely to Trahearne. He felt so happy, and yet… a lingering sadness prickled in his chest. He was so scared that Trahearne couldn't possibly feel the same way he did. What if he was just setting himself up for disappointment? He wasn't sure if he'd be able to take a rejection from Trahearne easily. It would likely end up destroying what they had as friends and allies.

Gwyleon swallowed the bitter pain in his throat and continued marching forward.

\---

The march Southward was agonizingly long. One thing after the next delayed the progression each and every day. First, there was the solidifying of Trahearne’s leadership. The Firstborn had adopted the rank of Marshal, and had given Gwyleon the rank of Commander of the Pact. While he did appreciate the fact that he was entrusted with such an incredibly important role, he felt himself becoming increasingly distracted by his thoughts when he was around Trahearne. 

Gwyleon had made an incredibly large mistake when he was sent on a mission to rescue some Pact soldiers that were being imprisoned by a group of Krait at Nonmoa Lake in Timberline Falls. He had been tasked with meeting a norn woman named Apatia at the lake to help her retrieve the prisoners. Apatia reminded him a lot of Forgal. She was reliable, obedient, and had excellent initiative.

While they were on their mission, they had learned from a Largos, a species of sea-dwelling hunters, that the Krait were using some kind of orb to ward off the risen who were populating the area like Skritt in a scratch. Gwyleon had made an executive decision to go after the orb in hopes that they would be able to use it at Fort Trinity to ward off the dead. The two had arranged to ambush the Krait who were transporting the orb between their structures. While Gwyleon did get the orb and returned it to Fort Trinity, Crusader Apatia was overwhelmed and captured by the Krait.

After Gwyleon delivered the orb, he had insisted that he go back to liberate Apatia. While Trahearne agreed, the Firstborn insisted that he accompany Gwyleon on this rescue mission.

“I do not want you to go alone, knowing how reckless you can be” he said.

When the pair had arrived at the broken down Krait structure, they noticed that the area that was once pristine and free of corruption had been overrun with risen and pestilence. All of the Krait that were residing there had been turned into undead slaves. The water below was so tainted, that it burned even at the slightest touch.

Trahearne studied the toxic water with scrutinizing eyes “Please, be careful. I _really_ don't like the look of that water… Or what might be in it. The orb was the only thing protecting these Krait from Zhaitan's influence, and now it will protect Fort Trinity... I’ve seen this kind of corruption before, and it is incredibly deadly. I fear for what may have happened to Crusader Apatia.”

“Please… I don’t want to lose another because of my incompetence…” Gwyleon’s voice was just barely a desperate whisper.

Gwyleon felt like he was losing himself in his distraction. Ever since he realized his feelings for Trahearne, he had been making more mistakes. This was likely the biggest one he had made so far.

Trahearne placed his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “You are _not_ incompetent. Apatia chose her own path because she trusted you to get the orb, which you did.”

Gwyleon shook his head “But Apatia-”

“Apatia trusted you to get the orb to safety” Trahearne repeated “She would be proud of you regardless of what happened to her.”

Gwyleon sighed “perhaps, but I need to see for myself, she could be up there in a cage for all I know.”

Trahearne was not very hopeful that Apatia was still alive. Truthfully, he feared that the corruption that tained this area had taken her already. Sylvari like himself had an innate ability to resist Zhaitan's corruption for awhile, but they were not immune to death. The longer that they were there, the bigger the chance that something could go wrong.

The bloated undead that were floating in the water were luckily not paying attention to them as Trahearne and Gwyleon made their way to the upper parts of the structure. The wood was decaying and smelled of pure rot. Some of the boards were falling apart and falling into the murky, pestilent waters below.

Gwyleon felt uneasiness eat away at his thoughts. He knew deep down that they were likely too late. No creature that wasn’t a Sylvari could survive this corruption for long. He wasn't exactly sure why he kept going. Did he really want to see that he had condemned someone to suffer because of his actions?

At the top of the tower, Gwyleon’s worst fears had come to fruition. In one of the locked cages, a risen zombie wearing Apatia’s armour stood. Gwyleon was silent as he stared at the creature.

The creature was seemingly lifeless as it stared into the horizon with dead, white eyes. Upon closer inspection, its features almost made it look sad.

“Gwyleon… I… ” Trahearne started, but Gwyleon ignored him walked towards the cage.

The zombie that was once Apatia looked at him for a moment and then wailed in furious agony. Green acid dripped from its mouth and sizzled on the bottom of its cage floor.

“How much you must have suffered... I- I’m sorry that I failed you“ Gwyleon spoke softly. The zombie became quiet and its eyes bore into him.

It seemed to have some shred of life left in it, because it reached its hand through the bars and grabbed Gwyleon’s wrist roughly. He looked up in surprise and locked eyes with the creature before it let go and lost its sense of humanity again.

“I think she wants you to know that she’s accepted this ending. You know this isn’t your fault, Gwyleon” Trahearne said in a calm voice.

Gwyleon shook his head “This is no way for a hunter to die… She must be put to rest. When we’re done here, we’ll go to Hoelbrak to tell her legend to the skaalds so she'll be remembered forever.”

“I think that’d be a fitting end, Gwyleon” Trahearne offered a sad smile.

Gwyleon unsheathed his greatsword and used his death magic to weaken the lock. With a loud snap, it broke in half and the cage door creaked open. The zombie noticeably looked strained, and Gwyleon tilted his head in confusion. Was she… Waiting for him to end her life?

Gwyleon reared back his greatsword and aimed it for the zombie, but within that brief moment, he hesitated. The tip of his sword hung in the air as he felt a stinging pain of regret in his chest. Suddenly, the risen released a blood-curdling screech and barreled towards Gwyleon. The zombie impaled itself on his sword, but both him and Apatia fell over the side of the wooden planks and fell towards the water below.

“Gwyleon!!” Trahearne shouted in fear as he dove over the edge in persuit.

Gwyleon’s scream was cut off by water filling his throat, his body sunk into the acidic waters below. The green murkiness filled with death magic and rotting corpses was suffocating. It burned his throat as he tried to inhale. He writhed in agony as he felt the dragon’s corruption trying to eat away at his mind and body. The last thing he saw was Trahearne desperately swimming to him before his eyes closed and he saw nothing but darkness.

\---

Gwyleon sucked in a breath of murky air and coughed when he felt water eating away at his lungs. He rolled over and ejected some of the water from his throat onto the ground. Gwyleon wretched onto the ground a few times before his eyes cracked open. Sunlight made his vision blurry, but he could make out Trahearne who was leaning over him.

He coughed a few more times before he fell backwards into a sitting position. He was drenched in the disgusting water and his skin had dark blotches on it, as if parts of it had died. The outer leaves of his armour were dark and almost crumbled at the touch.

‘By the Pale Tree…’ he thought as he looked at his arms. Skin that was once bright green was dark and sickly looking. The sight made him want to throw up again, but at least he was alive. He had Trahearne to thank for that..

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” Trahearne said in a low, pained voice which shocked Gwyleon from his thoughts.

Water dripped from the leaves on Gwyleon’s head as he locked eyes with the Firstborn. He swore that he could see golden tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“The Pale Mother’s protection saved you, but if you weren’t a Sylvari, you’d be gone by now…” Trahearne murmured.

“I… I’m sorry, Trahearne. I thought that she.. I know” Gwyleon’s ears tilted down and he cast his gaze to the side.

Gwyleon jumped a bit as Trahearne leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him. The Firstborn squeezed him tightly, and Gwyleon felt butterflies dance in his chest. He sat there for a couple seconds with his arms in the air, but then he wrapped his arms around Trahearne and held him close.

Gwyleon couldn’t help but wonder if this was meant to be an intimate gesture. Is this something that just anyone would do for him? He certainly didn’t think so. The idea of hope lingered in his mind as he felt Trahearne’s chest rise and fall.

Trahearne released him and grabbed his hand “Come, we’re going Clandest Basecamp to get you a mender. I demand that you rest for awhile. Fort Trinity can wait.”

“But I…” he was instantly silenced as Trahearne cast him a disapproving look. Carefully, he interlaced his fingers with Trahearne’s. The Firstborn lifted him to his feet and they began walking to the nearby Pact encampment.

As they walked, Gwyleon felt increasingly self conscious. Trahearne pulled him along gently, but firmly enough so that he could walk briskly. His emerald eyes looked down at their conjoined hands and a dark green blush creeped onto his cheeks.

Trahearne had been incredibly touchy with him since they met back up after the first assault on Claw Island. He hadn’t seen the Firstborn act that way with any other, so why him? Trahearne definitely wasn’t cruel enough to to lead him on, so why was he doing this? A million thoughts ran through Gwyleon’s head, but they only made him even more tired than he was before.

As they continued over the swampy landscape, Gwyleon felt himself losing energy rapidly. The corruption within the water had done a number on him, but what had it done to Trahearne?

Gwyleon scanned the Firstborn with scrutinizing eyes. Trahearne had the same dark blotches on his skin and leaves, but he wasn’t nearly as bad as Gwyleon. Perhaps his prolonged visits to Orr over the years had made him less affected by Zhaitan’s corruption.

The dark blotches on his skin were incredibly itchy, and he had started to feel warm. His half-lidded eyes stared forward as they finally reached the Pact encampment.

When they arrived, Trahearne called to the nearby Sylvari menders. When they saw the Marshal, they immediately rushed to their aid. These menders were new to the Pact, but they had traveled all the way from the Grove to help with the fight against the dragons in any way they could.

The beginnings of a gentle rain partly washed away the residue from the corrupted water that clung to him. It felt refreshing, but he still felt like his insides were burning.

“Quickly, we must get him to a tent for treatment. The corruption at that lake was strong enough to cause damage” Trahearne informed the mender.

“I-I’m fine” Gwyleon mumbled, his glazed eyes seemingly looked past Trahearne.

“Now” Trahearne demanded.

The Sylvari menders saluted Trahearne and grabbed Gwyleon by his wrists. He was tugged into a tent which was so large that it looked like it housed a couple Norn.

“Sit” one of the menders commanded. Gwyleon normally would have put up some kind of fight and insisted that he was fine, but he felt strangely compliant considering he was already half asleep.

The mender left for a brief moment, and through the flaps of the tent, he could see Trahearne talking to one of the officers that was in charge of the camp. He tried to get a closer look, but he felt his consciousness slipping. With a soft thump, he fell onto the fur-lined pillows of the bed and was swallowed by darkness.

\---

It was strangely dark when Gwyleon came to his senses. He had absolutely no idea how long he had been sleeping for. His recollection of what happened was rather spotty, but he knew where he was at least, and why.

His body ached in protest as he sat up in his bed and tossed his legs over the side. He felt much better than he thought he would. Whatever mender had taken care of him was incredibly skilled.

Gwyleon’s plant armour had mostly shed off of him due to the poison that had once threatened to eat him alive. He wasn’t exactly naked, but he definitely could use something to cover himself while his leaves regrew. The dark splotches that were once covering his body were almost nonexistent.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the sleeping form of Trahearne. He was sitting on the floor, and the upper part of his body was resting on the bed next to him. His chest rose and fell with each long breath, and the leaves on the top of his head fell in front of his eyelids. He looked so uncharacteristically calm.

Gwyleon felt a sad pain in his heart when he studied the Firstborn’s sleeping features. Trahearne must have fallen asleep while he was watching over him.

He reached his hand out and went to touch Trahearne’s face, but he flinched and backed his hand away when he realized what he was doing. Trahearne didn’t think of him in any kind of romantic way, he remembered.

‘If he didn’t think of me that way… Why does he do these things?’ Gwyleon asked himself.

An angry sadness filled his chest. He felt like he was being kept in the dark. Trahearne had stayed at his bedside twice now, and his small gestures were making Gwyleon’s mind run in circles. He wasn’t really just imagining these things, was he?

The sound of crickets softly chirping in the night and the smell of the cool misty air wafted in from the break in the opening of the tent. Gwyleon shook his head and pushed away the flaps. He stepped out into the camp and took in a deep breath. For some reason, there was no one awake, save for the guards who were at the entrance. Upon further inspection, Gwyleon noticed that they were dozing off.

He shook his head and sighed. He desperately needed to be away from here to think clearly. Briskly, he walked to the entrance and out the front gate. Neither of the guards were awake enough to register his presence.

The camp was stationed near a forest that overlooked the shoreline to the Benthic Kelp Beds. The ground that he walked on was rock covered in a soft layer of grass. The trees stretched high above him as he walked through the small island forest.

Strangely enough, the island was quite beautiful and untainted by Zhaitan’s corruption. He hadn’t smelled or seen a risen corpse nearby. A calm breeze ruffled the leaves on his head as he felt the bark of the trees.

“What am I doing…?” he murmured to himself. He had made two mistakes in such a short time because of his negligence. Was he really so distracted that he had gotten an ally, and almost himself, killed?

Gwyleon’s thoughts were shattered when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He whipped around, but no one was there. He felt nervousness prickle at his fingertips. He wasn’t armed, but he still had his shroud to protect him if he needed it.

As the footsteps grew louder, Gwyleon could see the glow in his veins shine brighter. He ducked behind the trunk of a large aspen tree and waited. Whatever poor soul had followed him was about to get a very rude awakening.

Gwyleon waited until the footsteps were right next to him before he whipped around the tree trunk and wrapped his hands around his stalker’s wrists, pinning them to the tree trunk.

He didn’t expect to see Trahearne’s golden eyes staring at him. Shock rippled down his spine.

“Gwyleon?” Trahearne asked as his brows knitted “What are you doing out here?”

“Me?” Gwyleon questioned “I could ask the same question as you seeing as you were stalking after me.”

A smile tugged on the edges of Trahearne’s lips “I may have seen you slip away. You’ve caught me.”

“Why were you following me?” Gwyleon narrowed his eyes.

“I was worried about you… ” Trahearne spoke carefully.

Gwyleon tightened his grip on Trahearne’s wrists almost to the point of injury as those words reached his ears. He should be angry, but instead, a warmness burned in the pit of his stomach.

Gwyleon felt his body lean closer to the Firstborn. Their noses were almost touching as Gwyleon breathed in Trahearne’s scent. His mind was hazy and worked slower than usual. “I think we both know that I’m perfectly capable of handling myself” He said in a dangerous tone. There was a hint of neediness wrapped in his words.

“Seems you’re pretty good at handling me, anyways” Trahearne’s voice was a soft rumble as he looked at Gwyleon with half lidded eyes.

Gwyleon felt himself almost catch fire at the comment. With a swift movement he lifted his hands off of the Firstborn and stepped backwards. “I am so sorry. I- I didn’t mean…”

“Gwyleon… Please tell me what’s on your mind” Trahearne’s voice was gentle as he rested his hand on the young Necromancer’s shoulder.

Gwyleon jerked his shoulder out from under Trahearne’s hand “I need you to stop this. Do you have _any idea_ what you’re doing?” he spoke harshly, and Trahearne recoiled a bit.

Gwyleon looked away. He suddenly felt too vulnerable. Even though he was out in the open, he felt like he was constricted to this small space with Trahearne. He desperately wanted to have this, but his mind told him that he couldn't.

Trahearne stepped forward and reached for the Necromancer’s arm “Gwyleon, I-”

“Stop!” Gwyleon snapped. “ _Why_ are you doing this? You’ve stayed at my bedside twice, and told me how we were bound together as one more times than I can count. Does this mean _nothing_ to you?”

Trahearne looked stunned at Gwyleon’s words. He opened his mouth, as if to say something.

“No” Gwyleon cut him off and looked away again “Perhaps I am just a fool to think that someone like Firstborn Trahearne would ever… “ his voice suddenly became very quiet “Feel the same way for me as I do for him..”

Trahearne offered a sad smile “Gwyleon, you do not know how incorrect you are at this very moment.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Gwyleon looked up at Trahearne with a perplexed expression.

Trahearne stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Gwyleon’s torso “I assure you that are not alone in your feelings.” His voice was soft and gentle, almost as if he feared that he could break Gwyleon if his tone was too hard..

Gwyleon flinched in shock as Trahearne’s arms wrapped around him. His heart almost caught in his throat as the words registered in his mind.

Trahearne was so close to him, he thought that he would melt into a puddle. The haziness that was clouding his mind came back in full force as he roughly grabbed Trahearne’s waist and pulled him closer.

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into” Gwyleon growled as he pressed his fingers into Trahearne’s hips.

Trahearne’s eyes burned into Gwyleon’s “I think I know very well.”

Gwyleon sucked in a baited breath and rammed Trahearne’s body back against the tree trunk once more. He pressed his leg against Trahearne’s groin and grinded into him with a desperate movement. Trahearne released a barely audible, but irresistible moan as his half-lidded eyes gazed at Gwyleon.

He felt a shiver run up his spine when he heard such a sound come from the Firstborn. A blush ran across his face as he felt himself become increasingly stiff beneath the undamaged leaves of his armour. Delicate fingers trailed along Trahearne's spine, which made him arch forward into Gwyleon with a soft gasp. Each little sound was driving him insane.

His mind briefly thought of something he had seen human couples do often. With a swift movement, Gwyleon leaned forward and pushed his lips onto Trahearne’s firmly. Trahearne gasped and wrapped his hand around the back of Gwyleon's neck. He pulled the Necromancer closer as they kissed. Gwyleon parted his lips and Trahearne sucked in a hot breath as their tongues slipped over each other. Trahearne’s mouth tasted like that of tea, but sweeter, and more enticing. He couldn’t help himself as his hand traveled south and grabbed the Firstborn’s rear roughly.

Gwyleon felt breathless as they parted from the kiss. Their eyes locked in a lustful gaze and they breathed heavily against each other for a few moments.

“By the Pale Tree…” Gwyleon said with a wispy breath as he put some distance between their lower bodies “I- I didn’t mean- That was..”

Trahearne interrupted him with a softer, more romantic kiss. They parted, and Trahearne stared deeply into Gwyleon’s emerald eyes. “I promise you, this is what I want.”

“Marshal?! Commander?!” a voice of one of the menders called out from the entrance to the camp. The sun was just barely creeping over the horizon, and the Pact members were beginning to stir.

Gwyleon inwardly cursed when he heard the voices. The Pact members must have been in a flurry once they noticed that both the Commander and the Marshal had gone missing in the night.

“Perhaps we should return to camp and continue this at another time” Trahearne said in calm, but amused voice.

Gwyleon released Trahearne and stepped backwards “Yes, right. I-um… I’m sure there’s lots of work to do, and I’m feeling much better now. Perhaps we can go to Fort Trinity as soon as I pack my things.”

Trahearne chuckled “Getting you to rest is harder than I thought it would be.”

Gwyleon interlaced his fingers with Trahearne’s and smiled. “I don’t think you’d want me any other way.”


	11. Victory, At Any Cost

Hoelbrak was incredibly frigid for a Sylvari like Gwyleon. While he was indeed able to steel himself against the cold, that didn’t mean that he enjoyed it.

The home city of the Norn was absolutely littered with huge ice statues. Animals such as wolves and ravens paid them no mind as they traveled through the center of Brawlers Bout. He could imagine Forgal speaking happily to his friends here at one point in time. The thought made him wonder just how different things could be had the old Norn lived.

The snow fell silently onto the ground as they walked along. It was… Peaceful at least. Gwyleon’s cold feet made crunching sounds when they stepped cold white blanket that covered the planks leading up to the lodge. The Norn who were walking around seemed to pay absolutely no mind to the fact that it was freezing.

Gwyleon took a deep breath and sneezed a puff of white breath into the air. The sooner they made it to the great lodge, the better.

Trahearne seemed to unfazed by the cold as well. They walked side by side, but only Gwyleon was shivering like a pine tree in the wind. His eyes flickered over to Trahearne’s empty hand, and with a stroke of confidence, reached over and intertwined his fingers with Trahearne’s. The Firstborn looked at him in surprise, but then smiled and continued walking.

What were they? Gwyleon wondered. The feelings between them were already out in the open, but their time was being eaten up by their duties. Secretly, he longed for time alone with the Firstborn. Not only did he feel great attraction to Trahearne, he also felt the desire to protect.

The thought that Trahearne was much more powerful than he seeming lost over the time that he had known the Firstborn. While he sensed it, he had become used to the power that Trahearne emanated.

Gwyleon and Trahearne stood in front of the giant Serpent’s Tooth in Hoelbrak. He stared out at the crowd that had gathered there to hear them speak. Trahearne stood next to him and offered Gwyleon a gentle, but sad smile.

The great lodge was massive. A couple huge bonfires surrounded them and made the building nice and toasty even with the front gate being open at all times. Large Norn-make chandeliers hung from the ceiling and bathed them in a soft yellow light.

Gwyleon took a moment to think about what he was going to say to those who were watching him with curious eyes. He wasn’t very good at speeches, especially to a race that was not his about the deaths of two of their own. Norn literature offered the idea that Norn did not mourn in the way that Sylvari did. While there was sadness, there was also celebration which Gwyleon did not entirely understand.

Gwyleon sucked in a deep breath and began “I, Commander Gwyleon of the Pact, stand before you bearing the unfortunate news about the deaths of two great Norn warriors. Both of whom were.. Some of the best allies that I could have ever asked for. These norn are Warmaster Forgal of the Vigil, and Apatia of the Vigil.”

A couple of murmurs swept across the crowd, and Gwyleon felt nervousness prickle at his fingertips for a moment. Trahearne gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, and Gwyleon continued.

“When the island of Claw Island fell to Zhaitan, we escaped due to the sacrifice of the most valiant Norn I will ever know. Warmaster Forgal of the Vigil. Warmaster Forgal fell in battle as he stood toe-to-toe with a fearsome champion of Zhaitan, an undead dragon named Blightghast the Plaguebringer. Not only did he not back down, he faced his opponent with the strength of a bear itself. Against impossible odds, he sacrificed his life so that we could escape. Without his selfless act of heroism, neither of us would be here to fight another day. It is because of him that I stand here right now. It is because of him that we are taking the fight to Zhaitan itself - and it is because of him that I have hope for the future of Tyria. Forgal’s legend does not die here. He shall live on in our hearts, and I can think of no better ending to his glorious tale than to have his deeds sung for centuries by your people. Please, hear his name with me, Forgal!” Gwyleon shouted.

“To Forgal! Of the Vigil!” One Norn called out.

“Forgal!”

“Your name rings out, Forgal!”

“We shall celebrate his life and his name will be remembered in our history” another Norn assured.

“Farwell, old friend” Trahearne’s soft voice could only be heard by him.

The others in the crowd clapped and cheered Forgal’s name. A languid sadness wove its way into his heart. The fresh feeling of loss stung him like nettle. His people did not mourn this way. Gwyleon was struggling to understand how these people saw death as a celebration of life instead of a time to be sad. Perhaps this was why the Norn were so strong. They could not be brought down with grief like he could.

Trahearne must have sensed Gwyleon’s distress, because he gripped his hand tightly and nodded with a reassuring smile.

Gwyleon gazed into Trahearne’s eyes for a moment and he felt the grief in his heart subside.

Trahearne stepped forward just a bit and cleared his throat in preparation to make his own speech.

“Hear me Hoelbrak” Trahearne began “I sing of Apatia, and the legend she forged. She was many things: A Vigil Crusader, a soldier, a hero, and a friend. She joined the Pact because fighting one dragon was not enough. She was determined to fight them all: Jormag, Zhaitan, and any that follow. She repeatedly proved her valor and worth at Claw Island, killing scores of undead and saving hundreds of innocent lives. Moreover, she helped recover an artifact that now shields Fort Trinity from Zhaitan’s influence. She gave us the footing we need to strike down the dragon. Apatia’s life ended on that mission, but her glorious legend lives on. Now, hear the words of the last person to fight by her side.” Trahearne gestured to Gwyleon with a smile “Commander?”

Gwyleon looked out over the crowd again. “Apatia was an incredibly talented warrior. We fought side by side to rescue others who were captured by the Krait. She was incredibly respected by myself, and by the Pact. Let the bards sing and the skaalds proclaim her glorious name forever. Join me now, until the Shiverpeaks themselves ring with the sound: Apatia!”

“Apatia!”

“To Apatia!”

“Hail Apatia! Her legend shall live on!”

Once the cheering had died down, the crowd began to dissolve. Gwyleon and Trahearne were left in the center of the lodge. The frigid air from the tooth of Jormag that stood in the center of the lodge made a cold shiver run up his spine.

Trahearne’s golden gaze fell on Gwyleon “Thanks to you, the Norn will never forget this day, or Forgal and Apatia. I believe that we have a few more adjustments to make to Fort Trinity, and then the invasion of Orr can begin.”

“That is exciting news. I haven’t even been there yet and the Pact is almost done with repairs.”

Trahearne chuckled “The Pact has many powerful mesmers in its midst that allow us to carry goods back and forth with ease. I look forward to showing you the fort.”

“Well, we should get going then, shouldn’t we?”

\---

Fort Trinity was a magnificent fortress on the coast of Terzetto Bay. At one point in time, it was considered one of the greatest outer Orrian fortresses that the nations’ people had built. Trahearne had gone into great detail about how the fort was once a docking station of sorts for boats going to and from Orr. When the Pact had arrived, they found the fortress was more or less rubble in some areas and needed a great amount of repair.

Pact Mesmers had done a magnificent job at transporting materials to and from their home cities. The Asura portals that led to the major cities were used instead of mesmer portals for transport once they were functioning. Unfortunately, some glitches within the system of portals made them unreliable during the later stages of building. While the building of the fort was essentially complete, the portals completely shut down, cutting them off from reinforcements.

During the time the portals were functioning correctly. Charr soldiers had brought with them incredibly powerful gate mechanisms. These gates were made with almost the exact same technique as the gates of the Black Citadel. While the did bring defensive parts such as gates, they also transported cannons and other siege weapons.

Asura had brought their knowledge of portals and had established a waypoint in the center of the city. Asuran Priory researchers worked night and day to create a holding station for the orb. With their combined help, the risen-repelling power of the artifact was able to be fully harnessed.

Sylvari had contributed their knowledge of nature and wove tight vines that would transfer magical energy to other parts of the city. The Sylvari race was also incredibly valuable, as they did not rise again if they were killed by Zhaitan’s minions. Trahearne had formed special teams of Sylvari to carry out their most dangerous missions.

Humans brought their knowledge of aviation technology such as sails and lightweight engines. Soon after the recapture of Claw Island, they had set their minds to creating airships which would make the Pact more formidable in the sky.

The Norn had brought with them countless soldiers and officers to train those who were new to the Pact. Fearsome warriors who were fighting to build their own legends were just the thing the Pact needed to strengthen its offensive capabilities.

Every race was doing their part to strengthen the fort against future assaults from Zhaitan.

The key to their success was the orb that Gwyleon had retrieved from the Krait. The orb’s special magic somehow warded away any undead from the area, and made the fort that much easier to work on.

Gwyleon was packing away some boxes in a storeroom one when he heard the patter of footsteps outside. A Pact soldier - likely a new recruit - peeked inside and looked cautiously at him.

“Commander Gwyleon?” The voice of an Asura called into the store room “Marshal Trahearne requests your presence at the front gate.”

“Huh? Yeah, sure. Okay” Gwyleon answered half mindedly as he set his box down.

At the entrance to Fort Trinity, Gwyleon spotted Trahearne speaking to a couple of Pact officers. While the officers were deep in their conversation, Trahearne looked to be thinking of something else.

“The Krait orb we recovered is fascinating. It literally prevents the dead from rising again” one soldier said.

“Then I wish we had a hundred of them. How does it work? Can we replicate it?” The second soldier asked.

“Not so far. The only thing we know for sure is that it's steeped in powerful magic.”

“As long as it works. We can figure out why it works when the war is over.”

Trahearne looked incredibly jittery. Even from a distance, Gwyleon could see the dark circles under his eyes which were a clear sign of overworking oneself. The Firstborn’s eyes shone when he saw Gwyleon “Gwyleon! I’m glad to see you. There is much to speak about.”

Trahearne turned to an Asura who was tapping away at a tablet that displayed the magical lines that transported magic around the fortress. “Zhaitan's forces are coming. Why aren't the asura gates functional?”

The small Asura’s ears drooped and shook her head “I-I'm sorry Marshal. We can't seem to isolate the problem.”

“It could be our proximity to Orr. Or maybe we've got a saboteur” a Charr Pact member rubbed his spiky chin with a long claw.

Gwyleon felt the nervousness coming off Trahearne in waves as the Firstborn turned to him. “This is critical. Without those gates, we're cut off from any reinforcements. We've seen a huge increase undead activity while we've been establishing our defenses. All the signs are there: our outermost defenses have suffered a series of probing attacks, and we've lost several long-range scouts.”

Gwyleon tilted his head and his eyebrows knitted in concern “Trahearne I-.”

Trahearne was fiddling with his fingers. It almost looked like he was about to have a panic attack. “We have the orb and powerful explosives developed by our top demolitionist, but there have been disturbing...glitches in communication. Fort Trinity is not yet secure. Worst of all, our Asura gates are not functioning, and nobody can tell me why. Magical or mechanical failure? Saboteurs? It's all very distur-”

Gwyleon grabbed Trahearne’s shoulders and yanked him closer mid-speech. “Trahearne, please, you must calm down. I know this is dangerous, but I promise that I will stand by you and help you no matter what.”

Trahearne’s wide eyes and stressed features relaxed a bit. His tired golden eyes scanned Gwyleon’s face for a couple moments. The Firstborn looked so tired that Gwyleon thought he might fall over right then and there. He had been so caught up in his own work that he completely neglected to see how Trahearne was handling things.

 _‘He is only one person… ‘_ Gwyleon thought.

“I- You’re right, I know” Trahearne admitted “There's just so much to do. With many of our resources dedicated to the Asura gate problems and the mystery of the Krait orb, our defensive preparations are lacking. We need to check the lumber camp for any new developments, as they are now our most outer defense.”

“Then I will do my best to help you. Put your faith in me as your Commander, and your partner. For now, at least, the inner sanctum of Fort Trinity is safe with the orb in place. We can work through this together.”

Trahearne looked a bit taken aback by Gwyleon’s words. The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly and his tired eyes sparkled with a renewed resolve.

“Thank you, Gwyleon. My Apologies, I didn’t mean-”

Gwyleon shook his head “Don’t apologize. I imagine that this situation must be incredibly stressful for you. I wish you could see how tired you look right now” he smiled.

Truthfully, Gwyleon was worried sick for Trahearne. Someone who was fighting with low energy could be an easy target. The thought of losing the Trahearne in the same way that he lost Forgal made his stomach turn. He would not - could not - let that happen.

Trahearne raised his hands and resigned “Alright alright, but we’re running out of time. let’s get to the lumber camp.”

The Pact lumber camp outside of Fort Trinity was a series of Charr-make machines and red tents around a bonfire. It was eerily quiet when Trahearne and Gwyleon stepped foot into the clearing.

Gwyleon’s ears pricked when he soft voices speaking to each other in the wind. When the camp came into view, he noticed that there were no piles of wood, and the soldiers that were stationed there were very few in number. Two things that screamed trouble to him were in plain sight.

“We're behind schedule. Trahearne needs more lumber to strengthen our fortifications” Gwyleon overheard a conversation between two soldiers who were near the fire.

“The last logging party we sent out is still missing. We have no idea what happened to them. Until we do, we can't risk sending any more.”

“All right. Organize a search party to find the missing loggers. Once we find-”

The soldiers were cut off by a ferocious roar that brought Gwyleon’s mind all the way back to Claw Island. He looked up and spotted a dragon champion, bigger than Blightghast, hovering over the camp. The beast reared its head back in preparation for a caustic attack.

“Look out!!” Gwyleon shouted.

It was too late. The soldiers did not have any time to run as the dragon released its horrible corrupted breath onto them. Gwyleon stared in horror as the soldiers screamed in agony. Their skin melted off their bones and left distorted bodies which crumbled to the ground.

“By the Pale Tree… “ He wavered as he saw what were once his allies rise as fresh undead minions of Zhaitan.

The dragon beat its wings and flew away into the sky once it deemed its job was done. The creature circled the area once before heading straight to Fort Trinity. A pestilent green miasma that was akin to the one he saw at Claw Island permeated the air. Flies swarmed the area and bit down on Gwyleon’s ears.

“Hurry! We must dispatch them!” Trahearne cried as he unsheathed Caladbolg.

Gwyleon grit his teeth as the risen soldiers began barreling towards them. Their dead, white eyes bore into him in fury.

With a swift movement, Gwyleon pulled his sword off his back and swiped his blade sideways at the soldiers who had been turned at the dragon’s breath. They were weakened by the damage they had sustained to their bodies and were easily cut in half. Gwyleon didn’t give them the chance to get anywhere near Trahearne.

He whipped his head around when he felt the ground shake. The sounds of battle in the distance made his heart leap in fear. The soldiers at the fort were unaware of this attack, and they could be overwhelmed if they weren’t ready. Himself and Trahearne needed to be there to command their forces.

“Did you feel that? We must get back to the gate!” Trahearne called as he beckoned to Gwyleon.

The young Necromancer nodded and the two of them ran towards the front gate to Fort Trinity. Just outside, soldiers were fighting hordes of undead that were already assaulting the fortress.

“How is this happening?! What happened to the orb?” Gwyleon asked mostly himself as the two of them ran into the fray.

He kept special tabs on Trahearne as he fought back the risen. His thorn greatsword cleaved through the zombies like butter, but they just continued rising from the ground as if there was an unending supply. Gwyleon’s eyes grew wide and he almost lost his footing when he felt the ground tremble once more. Five risen giants were approaching the gate from just over the crest of the hill. He might be able to handle one or two, but five? Doubt made him fearful.

“Thorns!” Gwyleon swore “I don’t think we can handle this kind of force with the soldiers we have here. These undead just keep crawling out of the ground!”

“Don't be a fool!” one of the soldiers called out “Fort Trinity is in danger. Leave us and seal the gate!”

The risen giants were upon them now. Gwyleon swung his sword at the leg of one giant, but no damage seemed to come from it. The giant glared at Gwyleon with its single eye and roared furiously at him. The green spittle from its mouth burned into the ground.

He grit his teeth as he realized his sword would do him no good here. There was only one option for him now. He allowed his shroud to creep out from under his skin and cloak him in protective darkness. The shadowy scythe formed in his hands.

He dodged past the first kick of the giant and swung the curved blade at its shins. The giant roared in agony as Gwyleon’s scythe sliced through the undead flesh and rotting bone much easier than his sword would. It fell to the ground with a loud smash and dust flew into the air. It lashed out furiously at Gwyleon with its arms, but he was too fast for the lumbering, fallen creature. Gwyleon was about to end it, but another giant’s foot smashed into his back, sending him flying face-first into the dirt.

Gwyleon growled in anger. While no injury had been sustained from the attack, his reserve life force took a large hit. He dug the bottom of his scythe into the ground and erected himself. Green eyelights set themselves on one of the giants. He was about to run back into the fray, but his feet stopped dead in their tracks when he suddenly realized that he had been fighting by himself. Trahearne was not by his side.

Frantically, Gwyleon searched for the Firstborn, fear grabbed at his heart and squeezed it tightly. How could he be so foolish to lose his partner in a fight like this? He inwardly cursed himself as the shadows of his shroud whipped around furiously in response to his anxiety.

His eyes widened in horror as he spotted Trahearne surrounded by two risen giants. They all but dwarfed him in size, but Trahearne stood fast. The light of Caladbolg bathed his tired face.

With a cry of battle, Trahearne cloaked himself in his shroud and released a massive explosion of dark energy which knocked the risen giants onto the ground. Black icy magic froze and melted away the undead flesh. The undead giants writhed around for a moment in agony before they were finally laid still. All Gwyleon could see were two yellow dots of light in the black shroud as his own shroud disappeared.

Gwyleon stared at the scene in shocked awe. In his desperation to protect the Firstborn, he had forgotten that Trahearne was the first - and most powerful - Necromancer of their kind. His heart raced as he saw the same black shadows whip around Trahearne’s body. The Firstborn’s shroud was more powerful than his by leagues. Shadows that defended Trahearne whipped around and lashed out with powerful force against any risen that dare approach. The fear that plagued him eased as Trahearne’s shroud disappeared and he started running towards the gate. The Firstborn seemingly didn’t notice Gwyleon’s dumbfound expression as he stood next to the young Sylvari.

The soldiers seemed to be holding their own for a couple moments, but even more risen giants dug themselves from the ground and added to the risen force. The orb should have protected them from more undead rising from beneath them! Something must have gone terribly wrong.

“Go on, get out of here. If you leave that gate open to save me, I'll rip your throat out!” One of the Charr soldiers called desperately from the outside.

Gwyleon froze in place as he saw the soldier look back at him and snarl. He thought back to Forgal, and his sacrifice. He didn’t know this Charr personally, not even his name. This soldier was willing to give their life so that he and Trahearne could fight another day, that was all he knew. Had this happened months ago, he would have thought differently about the situation. Now, all he felt was bitterness for the fact that others were always dying for someone like him.

Trahearne’s face contorted into a distressed expression. He looked entirely crestfallen as his golden eyes fixated on Gwyleon “Pull both switches and seal the gate!”

Gwyleon was snapped from his stupor and nodded obediently. With a swift kick, he pulled both switches and the gears of the gate shifted and ached. All he could see were the backs of the soldiers left outside to die.

“Mother, forgive me” Trahearne murmured in a soft, sad voice that only Gwyleon heard.

He could only imagine how much it pained Trahearne to sacrifice his own allies. The idea of failure as the Marshal of the Pact must be weighing down on him like boulders.

Gwyleon walked up to Trahearne and grabbed his shoulders “Please, don’t blame yourself for this. They gave their lives so that we could bring Zhaitan down. We must win this fight, for those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. I stand with you.”

Trahearne blinked and the distress was wiped from his face. His eyes were glassy and tired, but they shone with determination. “I am sorry, I almost lost myself for a moment there in my self-degradation. Thank you for staying by my side, Gwyleon.”

Gwyleon smiled in relief as Trahearne’s demeanor shifted. He was about to speak, but the familiar sound of beating wings rang in his ears.

“Mother preserve us...what's that in the sky?!” A Sylvari soldier shouted.

An enraged roar made his skin crawl. The Pact soldiers readied themselves as the dragon champion from before flew low to the ground and hovered over them. Its dead, white eyes scanned the clearing for a suitable target.

Gwyleon’s eyes frantically searched for some kind of way to attack the beast. Finally, he spotted some Vigil soldiers standing near some Charr cannons.

“Fire the cannons! Shoot that thing out of the sky!” Gwyleon commanded.

The dragon snarled when it spotted the cannons that were now being aimed at it. With a strong beat of its tattered, leathery wings, it landed right on top of the cannons and shattered them into pieces. Gwyleon gawked with wide eyes as the soldiers below were smashed into a fine paste on the ground.

Zhaitan’s champion roared in triumph as the undead behind it crawled from the water in hordes. The bloated risen exploded into putrid liquid once they found a group of Pact soldiers. The zombies quickly overran the group of defenders who were trapped at the far docks. Scarlet blood and sap covered the ground from the onslaught.

“Brambles!” Gwyleon cursed “The docks are lost! We can’t fight like this, we have to get to the inner sanctum!”

“Fall back! Fall back to the inner gate!” Trahearne demanded in a strong voice.

The remaining soldiers had retreated to the inner sanctum of Fort Trinity and shut the gate behind them. They readied their weapons as the risen began scraping at the ground to get under the gate. Half-decayed hands broke free from the soil and grabbed at the legs of the Pact members. This was where they would make their last stand. This was where he would possibly die.

 _‘If this is how I die, then I welcome my fate with open arms’_ Gwyleon thought.

The idea of death while putting your whole being into something seemed almost rewarding in its own way. The fact that they at least tried to stop the dragons was more than enough for him. He would go down fighting, just like Forgal did.

A choked scream brought Gwyleon back to the battle and made him whip around to face the direction of the non-functioning Asura portals.

“The enemy has the orb! They're heading for the asura gates! Somebody stop them!”

Gwyleon gasped as he spotted an undead lich closing the small gate that blocked off the portals. The orb was held tightly in its hands as it shut the gate behind it. The orb was their only chance for survival, he had to retrieve it if they were to make it through this battle.

A horde of risen stood between him and that gate. The challenge made Gwyleon’s heart race.

 _‘I could probably make it if I use the last of my life force… ‘_ he figured.

Gwyleon gripped his thorn tight in his hands and looked over to Trahearne. The two of them exchanged a knowing glance and Trahearne nodded.

“Get the orb, I’ll hold the line here” Trahearne assured him.

Normally, he would have been concerned for Trahearne’s safety, but after seeing the Firstborn’s power earlier, he didn’t have any excuse. Trahearne could hold his own, he had to remember that.

Gwyleon breathed in a deep breath. With every ounce of effort, he poured his power into his shroud and his scythe materialized in his hands again. He steeled himself and dashed forward, his blade cleaved through the risen in his way as he spun it around. Sickly green ooze splattered onto the ground when he cut through them.

There were so many of them that he could swing his scythe in any direction and he’d hit something. His arms ached more and more as he fought onwards. With great effort, Gwyleon finally cut his way through the risen zombies and arrived at the gate.

Gwyleon had to shield himself as the rest of the risen zombies threw wads of corrupted matter at him. In the chaos, he spotted an Asuran Pact soldier who was somehow holding her own against the risen group. She gasped she she caught sight of him and ran over to him as quickly as her little legs could carry her. “They had the orb! They looked like Pact soldiers, but then they changed. By the time I realized they were using illusions, it was too late. If they get the gates working, we'll lose them and the orb. We need to use the explosives to get through!” She pointed towards some bombs that were in the corner.

Gwyleon nodded and, without a word, snatched one of the black powder bombs. The Asura soldier used some fire magic to light the fuze. The bomb exploded in a cloud of black smoke and the gate squealed as the gears grinded against each other. Inside, a lich and some risen minions whipped around.

The lich snickered “Ah, here is the most illustrious Commander of the Pact. You are finished. Your orb, your fortress, and your asura gates belong to us.”

Gwyleon grit his teeth “Nothing belongs to you, you slime. You will see the darkness of death when I will rip your soul from your body.”

With a swipe of his scythe blade, he sliced the risen minions in half. The green essences floated into the air and he collected them greedily to fuel his shroud. The lich was not prepared for such resistance from just one Sylvari.

The lich hissed as it saw its minions reduced to paper. It was all that stood between Gwyleon and the orb now. The creature reached into the air and surrounded itself with a dark shadowy bubble.

“Someone like you can’t have any hopes of defeating me, Sylvari”

“Is that so?” Gwyleon asked in a distorted voice. “You’re in for a rude awakening. Suffer! Lich!”

An icy outburst of dark magic from Gwyleon’s body froze the Lich to the ground. He gripped his scythe tightly and reared it backwards. With all his might, he sliced through the creature and his blade smashed into the ground with an explosion of shadow. The risen corpse pieces splattered against the walls, and the orb fell to the ground.

Gwyleon gasped as his shroud immediately disappeared. His power had run out, but he had successfully retrieved the orb. All he had to do now was get it to its holding tower.

The essence of the lich hung in the air and he contemplated for a moment on taking it. He cautiously made his decision and grabbed the essence roughly with his hand. Instead of writhing in agony like the first time he absorbed a lich’s essence, he felt a surge of power.

Invigorated, he grabbed the blue orb and ran towards the station that housed the artifact. Gwyleon didn’t waste any time and shoved it roughly into its socket. A brilliant blue light rippled up the tower that held the orb and an outburst of light covered the fort like a dome.

He was momentarily blinded by the flash, but when he looked up, he saw that the Pact now had the upper hand against the weakened risen. With a furious roar, the dragon that was at the docks retreated. It reluctantly dove into the water and began swimming back towards Northern Orr.

Gwyleon felt reinvigorated by the change of atmosphere. The sickly green miasma that once hung in the air was clean once more.

“Push them back! Secure the docks and this battle is won!” Trahearne commanded.

Gwyleon noticed that the Firstborn had light cuts along his arms and legs, as if a risen had clawed at him at some point. The golden sap leaked from the cuts and dripped onto the ground, but Trahearne paid no mind to them. Gwyleon, on the other hand, felt a mixture of worry and relief that the Firstborn was still in one piece.

Gwyleon vaulted over the fence that guarded the orb and headed back into battle. The Pact soldiers tore down the giants that had erected themselves in the middle of the fort and cleared the docks of any risen corpses they could find. The orb had prevented any more undead from rising nearby, and they were safe from and reinforcements coming to them.

The Risen Giants that were outside crumbled to the ground when Pact soldiers shot them down from atop the walls of Fort Trinity. While Trahearne and Gwyleon led the assault from the inside, those at walls made quick work of the outside forces. Never before had hope and sheer strength shone so brightly in the Pact soldiers.

At last, the rest of the risen forces had been culled, and the Pact claimed victory at the Battle of Fort Trinity.

“This battle is won!”

“We’ve finally done it!”

Gwyleon shoved his blade deep into a deceased risen body, his mind was far away in thought.

He had been absolutely ready to die not even an hour ago. He could have lost everything to Zhaitan, but thanks to the sacrifices of others, they could continue their fight to Orr.

“Ah!” Gwyleon gasped as Trahearne approached and suddenly grabbed his wrist.

The Firstborn smiled and led him up to one of the platforms that overlooked the Pact soldiers who were standing at attention. Gwyleon’s emerald eyes scanned over the soldiers who would have gladly died today had he not recovered the orb. He looked down at their interlocked fingers and the corners of his lips curled upwards. A calm sense of triumph filled him.

“For more than one hundred years, Orr has been lost. Despoiled, corrupted, ruined by the presence of a dragon: an infection, withering the heart of Tyria.” Trahearne began in a strong, but clearly exhausted voice as he looked out over the troops. “Fort Trinity symbolizes our determination. It stands as a mark of our unity against the dragons. From here, we will prevail. We will fight to rend the darkness with steel and flame, always looking toward the dawn. Our victory at Fort Trinity will show the world that we can strike against the dragons. When we are ready, we will prove that even in the sanctum or Orr, they are not untouchable. We can reach the dragon's lair in the heart of Orr. We can assault Arah. We can destroy Zhaitan before the dragon's infection claims us all. This battle is over. We can triumph. But the war has just begun!”

“For the Pact, for Tyria!” Gwyleon followed with a shout and shook his fist in the air.

A resounding sound of cheering filled the docks courtyard as the speech was finished. Hope had been restored, but Gwyleon couldn’t help but think of all the sacrifices they had to make to get here.

How many more would have to die so that their world could potentially be peaceful once more?

He didn’t have an answer to that question. All he could do was protect what was most precious to him.

Amidst the cheering and organized chaos, Gwyleon silently slipped away. Trahearne, who was speaking to a medic, seemed relatively oblivious.

Like a shadow, he crept to the outside gates which were now open in preparation for cleanup. The bodies of those who sacrificed themselves lay before him in piles along with risen corpses.

Gwyleon breathed in a heavy breath as a couple of pact medics rushed past him and began to retrieve the bodies. He spotted the auburn fur of the Charr who had ordered him to close the gate. His ears dipped and he looked away almost immediately.

“I figured you’d be hiding somewhere” Trahearne’s tired voice made Gwyleon jump.

“Not hiding, just reflecting” Gwyleon corrected.

Trahearne walked over and stood next to him. The Firstborn gently wrapped his arm around Gwyleon’s shoulders and pulled him away from the bodies. The movement was gentle, and meant to be one of reassurance. “All life is precious. Because of them, we are able to make an effort to rid Tyria of Zhaitan. Their sacrifice was not in vain, as someone reminded me.”

Gwyleon’s turned his head and his eyes fixated on Trahearne as he thought about those words. “Yes, that is true. I guess I was just remembering someone is all” Gwyleon huffed.

“I think that Forgal would be proud of this day” Trahearne smiled sadly.

Gwyleon chuckled “I can imagine that he would, at least.”

In this moment, he took time to appreciate that Trahearne was here with him. Even though the Firstborn looked positively exhausted and dried sap clung to his skin, he was here. Gwyleon felt his feet start to carry them back into Fort Trinity.

“That reminds me. As your Commander, I implore you to actually get some sleep and leave the worrying to me for a bit. You look like you were trampled by a pack of fern hounds, if I am to be honest” Gwyleon chuckled.

“Ouch, could you possibly be any more blunt about it? My Commander is much more rigid than I thought” Trahearne feigned offense to the comment, but there was still a warm hint of happiness in his voice.

Gwyleon raised a brow “You know, I distinctly remember someone being a massive thorn in my side when I was a sapling. As for being more blunt, I very well could. Is that what you want? Because I’m not sure if you know what you’re asking.”

“No, no” Trahearne shook his hands in front of him in resignation. A purposefully strained smile rested on his face. “You’ve made your point quite clear. I hope that I can trust you to oversee the rest, then.”

Gwyleon scoffed “I am the Pact Commander, I sure hope that you trust me. Now leave, you really should be asleep right now. I see those bags under your eyes.”

A soft golden blush crossed over Trahearne’s cheeks “Right.. Well, yes. I’ll be off then.”

As Trahearne walked away, Gwyleon felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

\---

The next few days were quite busy for Gwyleon. He had set his mind entirely to running the Pact while Trahearne recovered. He had barely seen the Firstborn, which was both good and bad.

Gwyleon was becoming increasingly restless the more that he was tasked with standing around and telling the soldiers what to do. He was definitely more suited for front-line fighting than idly giving orders.

While he did appreciate having some downtime, he not-so-secretly wished that he was spending it elsewhere. The crushing weight of how boring and yet taxing Trahearne’s job was made him yawn loudly. He wasn’t even tasked with doing any of the paperwork… Yet.

His task today was to stand outside of a warehouse where wood was stored. The biggest problem was that some of the newer pact soldiers had picked up a habit of storing items in the storehouse which didn’t belong there. He had personally tasked himself with catching the repeat offender and reprimanding them. Not only did the rookie mistake entirely ruin his perfect organization track record, it also made a lot of the seasoned soldiers angry. While he did enjoy telling new recruits to buzz off, standing around made his feet fall asleep.

His fingers were fiddling with one of the leaves on his head when the sound of approaching footsteps made his ears twitch. They were barely audible, but Gwyleon picked up on them with his acute hearing and the sensation of powerful magic.

He could already tell that it was Trahearne, simply by the way that he walked. The Firstborn took careful, silent steps. The fact that him and Trahearne mostly ran around with bare feet made it easy to stay quiet at all times.

Gwyleon didn’t turn his head “I very much hope that those bags under your eyes are gone. If they aren’t, we’re not speaking” he deadpanned. He was kidding, but he didn’t want to give his secret away that easily.

Trahearne rested his arm on Gwyleon’s shoulder “Hmm, seems like you’re starting to sound like a real Commander now, aren’t you? Ordering around the Marshal like this.”

Gwyleon rolled his eyes and folded his arms “I just feel that it is in the Pact’s best interest that its Marshal isn’t exhausted to the point where he looks like a risen himself.”

“As a Necromancer, I find it offensive that you’d compare me to an undead corpse” Trahearne’s voice was low, but the amusement in his tone was still there.

Strangely enough, he found the banter between him and the Firstborn to be one of the most enjoyable interactions between them. Trahearne was by no means afraid to taunt him. Part of that was amusing, and the other part felt like a challenge.

“Maybe you should stop looking like one so often then” Gwyleon grinned as he cast a glance towards the open door behind him. A devious, but brilliant plan formed in his mind as he scanned the camp for any onlookers.

“Wha- ah!” Trahearne yelped in surprise as Gwyleon swiftly wrapped his arm around Trahearne’s waist and dragged him into the storeroom. He shut the entryway behind them and rammed the Firstborn against the door.

He hoped that no one had seen what he just did, as they would probably think that Gwyleon was some kind of maniac.

Trahearne gasped in shock as he realized what was going on. However, there was no hint of resistance from him. The bioluminescent glow of Trahearne’s sap shone brightly in the darkness as he looked into Gwyleon’s eyes.

Gwyleon studied Trahearne with hungry eyes. The golden blush almost covered his whole face. “You taunt me far too much” he murmured just before he crashed his lips onto Trahearne’s.

He could feel the tension melting from Trahearne as their tongues danced with each other. Gwyleon pressed his body against his partner, who responded with a pleased gasp. Gently, his fingers ran over Trahearne’s cheek and grasped at the back of his neck to pull him closer.

How he felt so confident to do something like this, he didn’t know. All that he knew right now was the warm haziness that burned in his chest. He did not want to stop, and this time, he wouldn’t.

Gwyleon could feel himself stiffen against Trahearne’s body and a dark green flush plastered itself onto his cheeks. He pressed his leg in between Trahearne’s and felt the Firstborn’s length beneath the leaves of his armour. It throbbed against him needily as he pressed harder.

As they kissed, Gwyleon felt Trahearne’s hand creep lower and lower until it was on his pelvis. His ears flattened in embarrassment for a moment, but the Firstborn’s gentle touch made him forget his worries. A shiver of lustful delight traveled down his spine. He had never experienced this before, but he was already drunk on the feeling of being at someone else's whim.

Gwyleon broke the kiss that they were sharing and his mouth traveled to Trahearne’s neck.

Trahearne’s ears fell backwards nervously. His neck was incredibly sensitive, and he melted at the slightest touch. “Gwy- ah!” Trahearne gasped as Gwyleon’s teeth gently licked and nibbled at the sensitive skin on his nape. A warm tingling sensation captured him as Gwyleon’s tongue traced small circles on the flesh.

Gwyleon released a soft moan as Trahearne’s fingers traveled up and down his shaft in response. He thrusted into Trahearne’s grasp with needy movements. His mind could hardly register what he was doing, but he couldn’t have cared less.

Trahearne came undone as Gwyleon relentlessly pushed into him. He couldn’t help himself as he began to grind against the younger Sylvari. A strong desire burned in his heart that he couldn’t - no, didn’t want to stop.

Suddenly, the door behind them lurched forward just a bit as if someone was trying to get in. Gwyleon’s eyes widened and he slammed the door shut again with a powerful movement. Trahearne gasped as he was thrust roughly into Gwyleon. He covered his mouth quickly with one hand.

“Commander? Is that you in there?” an small Asuran voice asked “I have some shipments-”

“Put them elsewhere, I’m busy” Gwyleon’s voice was a low grumble as his eyes burned into Trahearne’s.

“But I-”

“I said piss off. **Right Now.** ” He threatened dangerously.

The sound of tiny legs hurrying away in panic signaled that they were alone again. Gwyleon released a small laugh and Trahearne stared in shock.

“By the Pale Tree, you’re awful” Trahearne grinned as he moved his hand along Gwyleon’s length.

Gwyleon shuddered against Trahearne and glared at him with lustful eyes “Don’t you _dare_ call me awful, especially when you look like this.”

Trahearne was about to speak, but Gwyleon captured his lips again in a deep, charged kiss. His hand traveled south and grabbed Trahearne’s rear roughly. He pushed Trahearne’s pelvis into him, and a soft moan escaped his partner’s lips.

The storeroom was filled with low groans and soft moans as they felt one another. The needy urge that filled Gwyleon’s belly made him crazy with lust. The sweetness of tea and honey lingered on his tongue as he continued the kiss. Trahearne was completely wrapped around his finger, just as he should be.

Gwyleon gasped in shocked pleasure as Trahearne sped up his pace. His eyelids lowered halfway as he melted against each touch. Absentmindedly, he was moving Trahearne’s pelvis against him, eliciting the most explicit sounds from him that Gwyleon had never heard before.

They went faster until the building pleasure was just too much. Gwyleon felt himself unravel. With a guttural groan, he gripped Trahearne tightly. His fluid painted the Firstborn’s hand and ran up his arm.

Trahearne couldn’t take it anymore himself. The Firstborn trembled as he rut into Gwyleon one last time. His eyes shut tightly and he released a low, sultry groan as he reached his limit.

Slowly, the noises died down until the room was filled with only heavy breaths.

Gwyleon and Trahearne rested their foreheads against one other and stared deeply into each other's eyes for a long silent moment. Their bodies relaxed and they locked lips in a less-charged, more romantic kiss.

He pulled himself away from Trahearne “By the Pale Tree, that was- _Oh!_ ” he saw the green liquid spreading up the Firstborn’s arm and felt like he was set on fire. “I- I didn’t mean” he looked down at his waist “Jees, how am I supposed to walk out there like this?”

Trahearne chuckled as he straightened himself “That’s the first thing you think about?”

Gwyleon’s ears tilted downwards as he stared at the mess he had made “I, yes! Well, I mean… I just…”

The Firstborn smiled with half-lidded eyes and stepped dangerously close to Gwyleon. He swiped his tongue over his thumb to lick away some of the liquid that Gwyleon had left on his hand.

Gwyleon’s eyes widened at the sight and he turned around immediately as his whole face darkened. He swore that even his ears were dark green with how flustered he was. “I had no idea you could be like this, you’re legitimately going to be the end of me.”

“You didn’t seem to mind a couple minutes ago” Trahearne’s deep, yet amused voice made him feel like he was in a volcano.

Gwyleon was not going to give Trahearne the satisfaction of thinking that he had been flustered as much as he really was.

“Ugh” he grumbled as he rubbed his face and turned around. “I didn’t, and I can ‘ _not mind_ ’ again if you's like” he threatened in a low, momentarily confident voice.

A soft golden blush appeared on Trahearne’s face “Okay, you’ve got me. You have such interesting ways of surprising me, but I don’t mind at all.”

Gwyleon’s grinned “I didn’t expect you to stand there and let me do what I did, but I definitely don’t mind.” The comment was meant to be a playful, but flustering jab.

“ _Wow_ , thanks” Trahearne chuckled.

“You’re welcome” Gwyleon said “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to sneak out of here without letting any of those recruits see what _you’ve_ done. You’re on your own.”

Trahearne crossed his arms and stared at Gwyleon with an unamused expression. “Such a caring Commander you are.”

Gwyleon cast one last amused glance back at Trahearne and slipped out of the storeroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This one has a lot more explicit content than the last! Expect more angst in the future :D


	12. Drowned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Sorry for such a delay in chapter updates! I had some important work to do for my job so I haven't had enough time to dedicate to writing chapters. That will change though! I have a vacation for about a week and I intend to release a few chapters for you guys and hopefully return to a regular schedule afterwards. Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoy!

About a past week had passed by in a rush at Fort Trinity as the Pact worked to renew their base of operations after the battle. Everything had slowly been repaired to its former glory and morale was higher than it had ever been. While there had been setback after setback, there was finally a time in which nothing was going wrong and the preparations to finally assault Orr were underway.

What was once the overrun logging camp had been restored and new soldiers had been stationed there. Shipments from across Tyria through Asura portals made repairing and construction that much easier.

Several small camps had been established on Northeastern tip of Orr and the Pact was making headway in their assault on Zhaitan’s corruption. With the Asura portals functional once more, many reinforcements had poured in from the headquarters of each respective order. While the Vigil provided the most troops, the Priory provided the technology and the Order of Whispers provided valuable intel about the dragons and if they could be potentially killed.

The Pact had come a long way from the time it was forged, and Gwyleon was particularly grateful that they had chosen Trahearne as their Marshal. If it were him leading the Pact alone, he wouldn’t know what action to take next or where to strike.

The thought of Trahearne lingered in his mind as he walked quietly along the main path within Fort Trinity. Out of the corner of his eye, a small blue device with vines protruding from it caught his eye. The device was sitting on top of a crate and had likely been left behind by some Pact soldier who had been fiddling around with race-specific technologies.

Gwyleon jumped when a Pact soldier appeared behind him.

“Excuse me, Commander” The Sylvari soldier dressed in Vigil-style armour saluted him. “Marshal Trahearne sent me to request your presence at Caer Aval. He said that it was a matter of great importance.”

“Hmm” Gwyleon hummed as one of the vines wrapped around his finger defensively “Is that so? I’ll be there in a moment then.”

Gwyleon set down the device on top of the wooden crate and began walking to Caer Aval. This was the code-name for the inner portion of Fort Trinity where important briefings were held, and coincidentally, a small part of it also served as Trahearne’s personal space.

The great door made of giant gears spun against each other as they lifted the door mechanism upwards. Ahead, a large clearing with at least a hundred soldiers stretched out before him. They were all speaking to each other about various battle tactics and he overheard some conversation about a speech that was about to commence. Perhaps this was the point in which the main Pact force would start invading Orr.

He was about to step inside the doorway when a familiar seed-pod floated towards him. The white puff ball on top of the green pod tickled his nose before it opened and revealed a letter. White parchment paper which was rolled into a small tube was tied together with a thin green vine. He knew this was a letter from Caithe, considering there was no one else he knew who used a seed-pod to deliver mail.

Curiously, he picked up the letter and unraveled it. The seed pod silently floated away once it had deemed its mission complete.

Commander Gwyleon,  
What a shame about Crusader Apatia. Don’t lose heart: your Wyld Hunt, and mine, still have a long way to go. I hate the thought of going on without you. I’m about to meet up with Eir, and possibly Zojja, in yet another attempt to bridge the gap that divides us. I don’t see why the others can’t simply leave the past alone. Mistakes were made, people die. It’s a lesson we all need to learn, and one that I hope you’ve already accepted.

May the Pale Tree bless you and guide you,  
-Caithe

Emerald eyes scanned the parchment once more before he shook his head. He never did really have the best relationship with Caithe. At least not one where they were considered friends, just allies. Still, the thought of fighting a losing battle to try and get your guildmates together must be frustrating. There was also the fact that she somehow knew about Apatia’s passing and his mission. Was someone telling her these things? He certainly wasn’t.

Did Trahearne know about this? He wondered. He didn’t see a lot of the Firstborn’s writings addressed to Caithe, though in all honesty, he didn’t pay much attention to what Trahearne was writing, but more so how he was writing. Watching his partner’s elegant pen strokes was a great way to fall asleep.

Nevertheless, he had been told at one point that they would need Destiny’s Edge if they were going to win this fight. Considering that topic in its entirety, he did wish Caithe the best of luck in bringing them together.

Gwyleon carefully folded the letter and placed it inside his knapsack before continuing onwards into the mass of soldiers in Caer Aval.

When he entered, he noticed that what was once a loud rowdy group became silent and saluted him as he walked by. If he had been the person that he was when he had first awakened, he would have taken every opportunity to feel proud of himself. However, now, all he felt was hope for the future. He nodded to the soldiers as he walked past them.

Once Gwyleon found himself at the head of the clearing, Trahearne, who was standing on a raised platform, turned and faced the crowd. Doern Velazquez, Warmaster Efut, and Wynnet Fairhaired stood next to him. The Firstborn’s golden eyes sparkled as he addressed the Pact soldiers who were looking up to him “For too long, Tyria has suffered. We gather now with newfound purpose. Zhaitan’s servants storm our homelands. It is time to bring the battle back to Orr. This tide will wash over Arah and cleanse the dragon’s corruption! Together, we will prevail! Let the ships sail! Let the troops march! And let us find victory!”

The crowd of Pact soldiers cheered and clapped when Trahearne finished speaking. This speech was meant to strengthen morale of the Pact before the final assault on Orr. This was it, there was no turning back now.

Trahearne smiled warmly once he noticed Gwyleon below. Gwyleon clapped along with the crowd until they began to shuffle away.

“A stirring speech, Trahearne” Wynnet said.

Warmaster Efut nodded “Absolutely. You’ve turned into a real warleader, Marshal.”

Gwyleon approached the group and wrapped his arm around Trahearne’s shoulders “Of course. I couldn’t think of anyone better to lead us to victory.”

He noticed Trahearne’s ears tilt downwards in embarrassment at his words, but he was speaking the truth. There was no way they could have gotten this far without Trahearne as their leader. Battles had been won, hope had held strong, and at long last, the final assault was drawing closer and closer.

“Now, if we can just keep up the impetus you started, then we’ll have a chance” Doern added.

“Thank you for believing in me, friends. May fortune bless you in the battles to come” Trahearne dipped his head.

The three officers saluted Gwyleon and Trahearne before they ushered the rest of the Pact soldiers away. It wasn’t long until a calm silence overtook the clearing. He was kind of curious as to why everyone was leaving, but he didn’t feel the need to question it.

Trahearne turned to Gwyleon and took his hand, a soft, friendly smile made Gwyleon’s chest feel warm.

“It’s good to see you. I’m sure that you’ve gotten my message. My apologies for sending a soldier to come get you. I was in the middle of a briefing and I couldn’t leave.”

Gwyleon shook his head “Ah, I may or may not have been wondering about that. Don’t worry, I am always happy to be by your side regardless of who tells me to come here…” Gwyleon raised his brow in a brief pause “But, something tells me that you didn’t just want me here for the fun of it.”

Trahearne sighed and rubbed the back of his head “You are correct. I have had a couple things on my mind about our- the Pact’s next goal. I’ve also been thinking about your last mission. I understand that you have felt like you’ve failed Apatia. I’ve experienced this kind of failure, and this is not it. As Marshal, every decision I make means that people die. That’s the burden that I’ve had to carry.”

Gwyleon suddenly felt naked in front of Trahearne. While he did feel such a great desire to protect and care for the Firstborn, he was not very good at discussing his own mistakes and his own feelings on particular things he has done.

“Apatia was a Norn, and we gave her a proper Norn send-off” Trahearne looked up at Gwyleon with hopeful eyes “She lived and died a hero, and now her legend goes on. So must we. Apatia gave her life to defeat Zhaitan. The best way to honor her is to see that task completed.”

Gwyleon was at a loss for words for a couple moments. While Apatia’s death did bother him, he knew that he wasn’t truly at fault for her sacrifice. While it was difficult to give up on his self-loathing and stew in the idea of failure, he realized that moving on was the best option for both himself and the Pact.

Still, the thought that Trahearne had cared so much about him and had reassured him that everything he had done was correct made him feel warm and appreciated.

His eyelids fell as he studied Trahearne’s face “I know. It is… difficult for me to let go of the feelings of failure. It is equally as hard for me to speak about them, but I understand that we must move on, for the good of the Pact, and for Tyria.”

“Good” Trahearne smiled “Speaking of moving on, there’s someone that I’d like you to meet.”

Trahearne pulled Gwyleon along to a corner of Caer Aval. He was a little suspicious considering no one could see them here, but he trusted Trahearne with his life. That was enough for him.

“Our visitor may cause alarm, so privacy is paramount” Trahearne assured.

“Um…” Gwyleon hummed in confusion.

“Sayeh, it’s now safe to reveal yourself.”

A pool of dark energy swirled on the ground. The strange sight made Gwyleon want to unsheath his blade. When the same Largos he had seen from his mission with Apatia revealed herself, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Greetings, Marshal Trahearne. As you’ve requested, I’ve come to honor my oath” Sayeh didn’t seem to pay him any mind at all even though he was standing right next to Trahearne.

“Oh, it’s you!” Gwyleon tilted his head “To think I’d see you again, and with Trahearne no less. I find this to be an interesting coincidence.”

Trahearne looked perplexed “You know each other?”

“This is true” Sayeh said as she turned to Gwyleon “In the name of the Concordat of the Tethyos Houses, I greet you with respect.”

Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted in confusion for a moment when he thought of how to respond. Largos in particular were so rare that knowing their culture and means of greetings was scarcely known and difficult to remember. It wasn’t that he didn’t have respect for the Largos, it was just that he hadn’t spoken to her much even during the mission that he was leading prior to Apatia’s death.

“Likewise, I am pleased to see you once more” Gwyleon smiled.

That would do.

The black and blue fins that were attached to Sayeh’s upper back swayed with the warm, muggy wind. Largos weren’t exactly fish, but they did not often come to land. There was also a very noticeable salty smell that emanated from Sayeh, likely from spending time in deeper waters within the ocean. White hair covered her long blue pointed ears, and a black mask covered her face to hide her true identity.

Sayeh’s attention turned back to the matter at hand “As I mentioned, I have long owed Trahearne. Now, he has called upon me to honor my oath.”

 _‘Oath?’_ Gwyleon thought curiously.

“Yes, Scouts have discovered a sixth temple in Orr - a lost shrine to a fallen god, hidden underwater in the Strait of Malediction. Abaddon, the human god of secrets, was cast out of Arah by the other deities, and his name was erased from history. Very little remained. Zhaitan craves something inside that temple, so we must get there first. I’d like to go with you and Sayeh on this mission to find out what’s in that temple” Trahearne explained.

Gwyleon’s ear twitched. This sounded dangerous, especially considering that the temple was underwater. His green eyes flickered to Trahearne and he studied the Firstborn for a moment. He knew that Trahearne was much stronger than he was, but the risk of losing both of them on a mission like this was too great. The Pact would crumble if both of them were to go missing.

“Err… Don’t you think it’d be better if you stay here? The Pact needs its Marshal here with them. I’m sure that Sayeh and I can handle this by ourselves.”

Trahearne’s brows knitted as he considered the young Necromancer’s words. Gwyleon had a difficult time discerning exactly what Trahearne was thinking at times.

The realization that Trahearne could be worried for him made him understand his hesitance. He recalled how the Firstborn had saved him from dying to the corrupted waters. The distress in Trahearne’s face when he awoke was burned into his mind that day. Trahearne had always been this way, even when he was just a sapling.

Nevertheless, he wanted to be trusted. If he had to prove himself, he would do so.

Gwyleon rested his hand on Trahearne’s shoulder “Please, I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Gwyleon” Trahearne offered a sad smile “You’re right, it is probably for the best that I remain here for now. However, don’t think that you can keep me away forever.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it” Gwyleon chuckled.

“It will be dangerous. You will need all your skills to travel with me” Sayeh said.

Gwyleon raised a brow “I wouldn’t worry about me. We’ll go in, see what we see, and leave.”

Sayeh crossed her arms “As I remember. I look forward to this, Commander. Until then, may your steps be relentless.”

With that, Sayeh disappeared into the darkness once more. The characteristic salty smell of the ocean that came with her also vanished.

Gwyleon would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by Sayeh’s abilities. There wasn’t exactly a plethora of information readily available about the Largos as a species. He doubted that Trahearne knew much about them either.

“So, what’s this oath that Sayeh was speaking about?”

“Hmm…” Trahearne hummed “There was a point in time where Sayeh was outnumbered by Risen on the continent of Orr when I was there. This was around 10 years before you had awakened. I had come to save her when she was about to be overrun and killed by the risen. She had made an oath to come and help me if I ever requested it of her. She doesn't like to speak about this considering Largos are very prideful creatures.”

Gwyleon rubbed his chin “That’s interesting. I had met her back before Apatia was captured, she informed me that the orb protecting Fort Trinity now was in the hands of the Krait.”

“I see. Well, it is lucky that you two already know each other then, it saves some explanation on my part” Trahearne chuckled softly and began walking towards his desk.

Gwyleon followed, though he knew he better not stay for long considering his new mission.

A soft mewling noise was caught in his hears, his eyes flickered over to three cats that immediately ran up to Trahearne. The animals begged for attention by rubbing against his legs. They purred and mewed when he bent down patted each one on the head.

“Oh? I didn’t know you liked cats so much, Trahearne” Gwyleon smiled as he kneeled next to the Firstborn. An orange cat with fur that puffed out everywhere padded over to him and rubbed its face on his hand.

Two other gray cats rolled onto their backs and soaked up all the attention they could from Trahearne.

Trahearne smiled at the cats happily “Yes, I do like them very much. I guess they had wandered through one of the Asura portals and I figured they could stay with me. They were likely strays, wherever they came from.”

“Hmm, probably Divinity’s Reach by my guess. They’re quite adorable. I’d say that they’re suitable pets for you in that respect.”

Trahearne chuckled a bit “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. What are their names?” Gwyleon grinned.

Trahearne raised a brow, but he let the topic go and pointed to the two gray cats. “This one is Harley, the other is Maddy” he then rubbed the chin of the orange cat who purred happily in response. “This one is Leo, he seems to like you.”

Gwyleon stood up and crossed his arms “Well I’m happy that my partner’s pet likes me” he said in an amused tone.

Trahearne lifted himself from the ground and placed his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “Your partner would appreciate you coming back in one piece this time, you know.”

Gwyleon stared at Trahearne for a few moments and smiled. With a swift step he closed the gap between them and planted a soft, but quick kiss on Trahearne’s lips. A golden blush appeared on the Firstborn’s cheeks.

“I promise I’ll come back. Whether it’s in one piece, you can never be sure” Gwyleon chuckled.

\---

The underwater temple once dedicated to Abaddon was Northwest of Fort Trinity, deep within the Strait of Malediction. The salty waters were dark and littered with risen who patrolled the depths. Ornate Orrian designs lined the huge pillars that struggled to hold the old battered structure.

Old, broken down pieces of coral reached up from the depths and held the crumbling structure from completely falling apart. Years and years of wear and tear must have broken down the foundation of this temple.

Gwyleon hated being underwater. It felt suffocating even with his aquabreather on. He knew what he was getting into with this mission, but that didn’t mean he had to like all of it. At least, he figured, there would be no Krait in these waters.

Emerald eyes studied the crumbling structure for a few moments before he swam forwards. Suddenly, Sayeh appeared right before him in a cloud of darkness.

Gwyleon flinched backwards “By the Pale Mother, don’t do that!”

“Apologies. In the name of the Concordat, I greet you once more, Commander. The way ahead is dark and uncompromising.”

Gwyleon rolled his eyes.

“Yeah I don’t think I expected any less from an ancient temple of one of the dead human ‘gods’ or whatever they call them” his aquabreather spewed bubbles as he talked.

“It seems that the risen have already bypassed the wards and breached the temple. We must exterminate them. Be warned, however, there are dangers here not of the dragon. Powers ancient and unseen still occupy these halls.” Sayeh explained as she gripped her edged swords tightly in each hand.

“Sounds absolutely lovely. Let’s be on our way then.”

The foreboding waters would be hard for anyone else who wasn’t a Sylvari or a Largos to see through. Even so, he seemed to have trouble seeing further ahead considering how murky the waters were with Zhaitan’s pestilence. The etched doors ahead creaked open once they approached.

Gwyleon was not able to efficiently wield his sword in the depths of the water and instead favorited a spear with a red, magic-laced spearhead.

Risen Rotmouths that spewed pestilent liquid attempted to stall them, but they were put to rest when Gwyleon stabbed his spear into them and ripped them from the swollen ground.

Deeper within the ruins, they came across some kind of obelisk protruding from the ground. A misty green essence poured off of the structure and disappeared as it rose into the water above.

“A most interesting shrine. What is its purpose?” Sayeh seemed to question herself.

“Hmm” Gwyleon hummed. He placed his hand on the shrine and the green light that surrounded it retreated into a corner. To his surprise, a translucent humanoid figure in old Orran armour bowed to him.

This was universally understood as a way to begin an honorable fight. He gripped his spear tightly and tossed it at the figure. The spear sailed through the water and sliced through the mirage. It stuck into the rock wall With the sound of shattering glass, the mirage broke into tiny green pieces. A small shining green essence took the place of the fighter.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be…” He mumbled.

Gwyleon ripped his spear from the wall and picked up the magical essence that rested on the ground. It radiated with some kind of old magic he had not sensed before. This must be some magic related to Abaddon, as it did not feel like the corruption from Zhaitan.

Sayeh approached him “You should place that essence at the shrine and see if it opens a way for us.”

“Ah, right” Gwyleon agreed.

With a strong kick of his feet, he swam over to the shrine and placed the essence against the stone pillar. Bright green light shone from the shrine and a dark rumble sounded from deeper within the temple.

“Look. The currents shift. The ocean’s flow changes… These shrines must be how we gain entry.”

Gwyleon sighed “Figured that this wouldn’t be a straightforward kind of mission. There’s always some kind of secret or puzzle with the human gods.”

The two of them had cleared one last shrine underwater before they were able to reach a pocket of air in the upper portion of the temple. Gwyleon heaved himself out of the water ahd shook the droplets from his plant armour. He unstrapped his aquabreather from his head and stuffed it in his knapsack.

They weren’t exactly on dry land though. The slippery ground and water spilling from the ceiling signified that this was simply a part of the temple that had somehow retained air.

There were a few shines to activate, but they were easily taken care of when Gwyleon was finally on (somewhat) dry land once more. At least the whole place wasn’t under water.

The final door to the last chamber opened with a soft creak that echoed through the empty temple. A strong foreboding feeling made his skin crawl when he looked ahead into the dark hall.

The soft sound of rumbling from ahead made him hesitate to continue onwards.

“There’s… Something isn’t right here” he said quietly.

“Whatever we’re here for seems to be up ahead. Steel yourself, it’s time to press forward” Sayeh urged.

Gwyleon bit his cheek and reluctantly continued forwards. Halfway up the ramp, he noticed Sayeh pause for a moment. He unsheathed his greatsword and held it tightly.

“Something’s wrong. We must be swift.”

The eerie silence made his ears ring as he pushed onwards. Up ahead, he spotted three figures. The oppressive aura of Zhaitan’s pestilent magic burned into the walls of the chamber.

When Gwyleon and Sayeh entered the room, they had immediately gotten the attention of the three servants of Zhaitan. One of them was a massive amalgamation of body parts with a huge gaping mouth where its stomach should be. Rows of sharp, jagged teeth lined the salivating mouth. What was once likely eyes were now black, eyeless sockets that leaked a sickening green fluid. Torn rags that perhaps were worn by whatever the creature once was hung off its body.

The second servant was a massive floating eye that was encased in a black body-like structure. Waving tentacle-like appendages hung off of the encasement. He had seen this being before. It was the same creature that he had seen in the vision that the Pale Tree had offered to him and Trahearne before the battle of Claw Island. The red inflamed eyeball stared at him and made him feel like the dragon itself was staring down at him.

The third of Zhaitan’s minions stared at Gwyleon with dead, decaying eyes. None other than the risen corpse of Forgal stood before him. His sap ran cold at the sight and his eyes were widened in disbelief. There before him was his once beloved mentor, warped and twisted by Zhaitan’s corrupted magic.

He had half-expected to face Forgal at the Battle of Claw Island where he fell, but no such thing happened. To think that Forgal had suffered this long made a sickening feeling burn in Gwyleon’s throat.

“N- no… This can’t-” his words were slipping away from him.

The risen Forgal held his two axes limply in his hands. His once proud Vigil armour was stained and broken in a few places, and his decaying green skin was peeling off his face.

“Intruders!” The voice of the eye broke the silence “You trespass on the dragon's lands. You, too, will serve Zhaitan.”

“How _dare_ you!” Gwyleon shouted, anger filling his chest. “You have the gall to take my mentor from me and warp him into… Into this? You might as well have marked your own grave, because I’m going to tear you and that dragon limb from limb!”

The lips of the mouth on the larger creature turned upwards “Such brave words from the Commander of the Pact. Your death will be most pleasing to Zhaitan.”

He should seen this coming, he should have known that his failures would come to bite him again one day.

Powerful, dark magic swept over his body and coated him in shadows. He dragged the blade of his scythe on the ground and charged at the eye and the mouth with a vengeful fury.

Anger fueled him as he lifted his scythe up into the air, aiming to slice through the creature. Before he could strike, he felt Forgal’s strong, armoured shoulder smash into his side. He was thrown into a wall with a loud smash and this shroud was immediately dispersed.

His shroud had protected him from feeling the pain, but for some reason, he felt weaker than he should be. For some reason, he could feel the presence of Zhaitan itself bearing down on him.

Gwyleon reached for his greatsword and erected himself. His fiery green eyes burned into the eye “Are you so afraid that you’d send someone else to protect you from my blade? Zhaitan is pitiful” he spat.

“Enough. Enjoy your death, Sylvari” the Eye retorted in a menacing tone before itself and the mouth disappeared in a cloud of green mist.

All who remained were Forgal, himself, and Sayeh, who was watching from a couple steps away.

“Commander of the Pact, eh?” Forgal asked in a warped, strained voice.

Sayeh unsheathed her swords and readied herself “Do not listen, Commander. The dragon corrupts all those who were once allies.”

Gwyleon dodged to the side swiftly as Forgal charged at him with full force. Sayeh ran towards Forgal and disappeared once she was in front of him. She appeared in a haze of black smoke behind him and slashed her swords into his back.

Forgal growled as his dead skin was sliced by Sayeh’s swords. With a powerful swing, he smashed his arm into Sayeh’s chest, knocking her away.

“Stay out of this, Sayeh!” Gwyleon shouted as he righted himself. “This is my fight, and this is my mistake.”

Suddenly, Forgal charged towards him again. Gwyleon raised his sword in front of him and locked weapons with his former mentor. The sound of metal grinding against the tough wood of his sword made his ears ache.

Even as a risen, Forgal’s strength was incredible. Gwyleon felt his feet slip on the worn ground and he grit his teeth.

His mind flashed to Apatia and how for a brief moment, she seemed to have control of her body even though she was corrupted. He wouldn’t make the same mistake of letting his guard down, but perhaps he could reach Forgal, if only for a moment.

Gwyleon smelled the rancid stench of decay as their weapons fought each other.

“Forgal, please! It’s me, Gwyleon! If you can hear me, if you can remember anything about me… I want you to know that I’m sorry for everything that has happened. I’m sorry that I couldn’t end this sooner.”

Forgal’s eyes seemed to widen a bit, but with a swift motion, he notched the edge of his axe onto the blade of Gwyleon’s sword and knocked to the side. Gwyleon gasped as Forgal grabbed his shoulders and knee’d him with great force in the middle of his stomach.

“Guh!” Gwyleon felt his last meal climb up his throat threaten to spill from his mouth from the blow. He wrapped his arms around his torso and fell to one knee. Desperately, he gasped for air.

Instead of attacking, Forgal’s gloved hands gripped his head in pain. It appeared that the once proud Vigil Warmaster was battling with his own mind.

The fiery pain in Gwyleon’s stomach roared at him to succumb, but he forced himself to rise to his feet once more. Green tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes.

“I had forgotten how much stronger you were than me as far as brute force goes” Gwyleon wheezed.

His former mentor seemed to be incapacitated for a moment, but within an instant, he snapped back to his corrupted mind and ran towards Gwyleon with axes in hand.

“Suffer!” Gwyleon shouted. A cold, shadowy aura blasted outwards from his body and solidified Forgal’s shoes to the ground with a thick coat of ice. Forgal’s gait was broken and he fell onto the slimy, rocky ground face-first. His axes clattered on the ground and skidded away.

“Tch…” he clicked his tongue. “Look at what they’ve done to you. If you were anything like how I remembered you, this battle would probably be over by now. Instead, Zhaitan toys with me and reminds me of how much I’ve failed.”

“Eugh…” Forgal writhed on the ground. There seemed to be some kind of restraint in his movements.

Gwyleon stepped forward and kneeled down in front of Forgal. The pitiful display of who was once his friend made his heart ache.

“I guess I should tell you that you were right about Trahearne and I... I miss your snarky comments and your hard head. I wish that you could have seen what the Pact is today…” Gwyleon knew that he was mostly talking to himself, but at least it meant something to him.

“I was... hopeful that I had avenged you when we killed the Plaguebringer, but here you are.”

Forgal slowly lifted his head and looked up at Gwyleon. His body quaked with restraint, but for a moment, Forgal was conscious of himself.

“Do not... apologize to me. You still have work to do. You don’t have much time, end this. Please.” Forgal choked.

Gwyleon’s ears tilted downwards at Forgal’s strained voice. With great heartache, he prepared himself to obey the last command from his mentor. His feet carried himself to Forgal’s side and he gripped the handle of his thorn greatsword. A moment of silence passed by before Gwyleon thrust the tip of his blade into Forgal’s spine. With a soft snap, Forgal’s life finally came to a close.

There was no time for grief. A vicious, earth-shaking roar filled the air around them. The very foundation that they stood on shook and trembled. Pieces of the ceiling fell from above and crashed onto the ground next to them.

“The dragon roars in fear! These ancient foundations will not withstand the sound. Escape, quickly, before we are buried forever!” Sayeh commanded as she dove into the opening in the foundation that led to the underwater entrance.

“Thorns!” Gwyleon cursed as he ripped his sword from Forgal’s body. He was about to follow his ally, but he fell to the ground when Forgal’s decaying hand wrapped around his left ankle.

Gwyleon whipped around and caught one last look at Forgal as Zhaitan’s magic briefly revived him. The corrupted magic leaked from Forgal’s eyes as they bored into Gwyleon with fury.

He stared in horror as a rock fell from the ceiling and onto the corpse. Sickening dark red liquid splattered onto the stone. Another rock from above fell and crushed Gwyleon’s leg. His sword was knocked from his grasp and fell into the murky water below.

“Aaah!!” Gwyleon shrieked in pain as the stone section dug into him. Sap oozed from his crushed limb.

Frantically, he searched for something to release himself from underneath the boulder. All around him, the structure was crumbling and ached in its struggle to stay standing. He didn’t have much time, if he was to escape alive.

With a last-ditch effort, Gwyleon began to rip himself away from the rock with what strength he had. He screamed in agony as he felt his flesh rip and tear away from his crushed leg. While Sylvari could regrow limbs, that didn’t mean it wasn’t any less painful to remove them.

He felt his consciousness briefly slipping from the pain as he fell into the water with a splash. Rocks fell into the water from above and threatened to close off the small opening in which himself and Sayeh had entered from.

Gwyleon desperately willed himself to stay awake as he reached for his aquabreather in his knapsack. He fastened it to his face and sucked in a breath of filtered air.

He could just barely make out the green sap that was leaking from his wound and clouding the water.

‘By the Pale Tree… Someone help!’ Gwyleon pleaded.

Suddenly, he felt an arm wrap around his body. He turned his head and spotted Sayeh holding his sword in her other hand. He could just see her cobalt blue eyes beneath her mask.

“Today is not the day to die, Commander” Sayeh assured him.

Sayeh was able to easily maneuver them through the opening in which they had entered the temple. Gwyleon was relieved that he would be able to return home.

Gwyleon looked down at his torn leg and cringed “So much for coming back in one piece. I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask if you could help me back to Fort Trinity?”

A barely noticeable laugh came from Sayeh “Such is part of my mission.”

The last thing that he expected was to be carried back to Fort Trinity by a Largos. He could only imagine how many stories he would have to tell in the future.

\---

The sound of soft purring and a prickly thing rubbing against Gwyleon’s face made him stir from a restful sleep. The soft, plush mattress beneath him would have willed him to sleep again if it weren’t for some plump furry creature sitting on his chest.

Gwyleon cracked open his eyes and came face-to-face with the very fluffy face of Leo staring back at him. The cat’s green eyes sparkled brightly as Leo licked Gwyleon’s face.

“Ack, Leo, why?” Gwyleon chuckled as he pushed the cat’s face away from him.

The tabby rumbled with rejection as it hopped off of Gwyleon’s chest and padded over to a nearby desk where Trahearne was sitting.

 _‘I’m back at Caer Aval? How did I…?’_ his thoughts were interrupted as he looked down and saw his missing leg. A sickening feeling washed over him when he remembered what happened. He must have lost consciousness on the way to Fort Trinity.

“Ah, thank the Pale Tree you’re awake” Trahearne said in a relieved voice as he shut the book he was reading and walked over to Gwyleon.

Gwyleon’s brows knitted. He couldn’t recall how many times he had been in this position. Injured, and with Trahearne watching over him.

He signed and his green eyes turned away “I assume you already know what happened then.”

Trahearne nodded and sat on the edge of the bed “I was told by Sayeh what happened at the temple. I should not have let you go on this mission alone, I-”

Gwyleon sat up in the bed and stared at Trahearne with fiery emerald eyes “Please. This is nothing. My leg may not grow back immediately, but I didn’t fail this mission. I don’t want to end up here every time I screw up, and I don’t want you to think that I’m just a failure of a Commander. I was careless because Forgal was there, and I don’t… I won’t make the same mistake.”

Trahearne was stunned into silence for a moment before he reached over and cupped Gwyleon’s face in his hands “What I mean is, I’m glad that you came back. If I were to lose you…”

The warm touch of Trahearne’s hands on his face made all of the frustration melt from him in an instant. A warm sadness bit into his heart.

Gwyleon reached for Trahearne’s hands and held them tightly “I’ve messed up quite a bit lately. I’ve let my emotions take control of my actions and put others and myself in danger. I realize now that I’m not as strong as I would like to think that I am.” His emerald eyes looked up at Trahearne “I’d like you to teach me more about Necromancy, so that I can be stronger.

Trahearne blinked and then smiled warmly “I would love that. Well, I mean, I would love teaching you that is.”

Gwyleon wrapped his hand around the back of Trahearne’s neck and pulled him in close. A bright golden blush appeared on the Firstborn’s cheeks as Gwyleon rested their foreheads together. He could see his own reflection in Trahearne’s eyes.

“I love you, Trahearne” Gwyleon said with a soft voice.

Trahearne’s eyes widened and for a moment he was at a loss for words. Suddenly, Trahearne leaned forward and surprised Gwyleon with a deep, passionate kiss that made his face grow hot.

Gwyleon felt Trahearne’s fingers wrap around his arm and squeeze it tightly. They broke their kiss for a moment and he felt the Firstborn’s warm breath on his neck.

“I love you too, Gwyleon” Trahearne responded in a deep, sensual voice.

Gwyleon felt incredibly warm. The feeling of being powerless made his sap race in is veins.

“Show me.”

The corners of Trahearne’s lips curled into a devious smile for a moment as he kissed Gwyleon’s neck. He slowly moved downwards, pressing soft kisses against Gwyleon’s chest and stomach.

Gwyleon shivered with delight at every kiss. Once he realized where Trahearne was moving, he tensed up a bit.

Embarrassment made his ears hot as he felt himself stiffen under his leaf armour.

He sat up a bit as Trahearne approached his waistline “Trahearne I-” he was suddenly pushed back down by a potent shadowy magic. His heart raced in surprise and when he looked down he saw Trahearne looking at him with one half-lidded eye.

 _“Stay down”_ The Firstborn’s voice was deep, commanding, and dangerous.

Never once before had he seen Trahearne so… Authorative in this kind of situation. He felt exposed, vulnerable in front of his partner who pushed aside the leaves around his waistline to reveal his throbbing length.

Gwyleon’s breath hitched as Trahearne ran his tongue all the way from the base to the tip with an agonizingly slow pace. His back arched in response and his hands gripped the sheets below tightly.

He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. While he did enjoy it, he wasn’t entirely sure if Trahearne was doing this for his own enjoyment as well.

“Trahearne, you don’t- Ah!” a soft, surprised gasp escaped him when Trahearne closed his lips on the tip of his length. The Firstborn gazed at him with half-lidded eyes.

Gwyleon fell backwards again and covered his very bright face with his hands “You’re going to be the end of me.”

Trahearne chuckled softly as he lowered his head down further on Gwyleon. His tongue glided along as he began moving his head up and down.

He had never in is life felt something so amazing as this. The feeling of building desire pooled in his stomach and he began thrusting upwards into Trahearne. He ached with need, and he slapped his hand over his mouth when he felt a moan threatening to escape.

Trahearne wasn’t having any of it. With nothing but a flicker of his eyes, two shadowy hands grabbed Gwyleon’s wrists and forced them down onto the bed.

He gasped once he felt Trahearne’s magic wrap around his wrists. He tried to move his hands, but Trahearne’s magic was too strong. A pleasured groan left his lips as he felt powerless against his partner.

A shiver ran up his spine as Trahearne lapped along his length greedily. A hot sensation pooled in his stomach.

“By the Pale Tree, Trahearne. I can’t hold out for long” Gwyleon huffed as Trahearne quickened his pace.

Trahearne responded by moving faster and faster. Gwyleon arched his spine as he felt his need threaten to send him over the edge. He couldn’t handle any more.

“Trahearne, ahh!” a loud moan escaped his lips as Trahearne backed away and let the green fluid paint Gwyleon’s chest and stomach.

Trahearne sat upwards and licked his lips in satisfaction. Gwyleon breathed heavily as he came down from his high and the dark magic that once bound him disappeared.

Gwyleon’s eyes looked downwards at the mess he had made and then back at Trahearne who was looking at him with a smug expression.

“I figure that this is my reprisal for the last time. I hope you enjoyed it” Trahearne chuckled.

Gwyleon’s face was lit on fire and he covered his eyes with his hands “I… I’ve never felt anything like that before... However, you could at least pass me something to clean up with since I don’t really feel like limping to the table right now.”

“Of course” Trahearne laughed as he stepped off of the bed and retrieved a clean rag from the table and tossed it at Gwyleon. The rag landed on his chest.

He made quick work of cleaning himself up. While he did feel entirely exposed, he felt more relaxed now than he had ever felt before.

Gwyleon tossed the rag at Trahearne and fell backwards onto the bed once more “I.. I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t think-”

“You didn’t think that I could control you like I did? Perhaps I shouldn’t have, considering you thill need to recover… Again” Trahearne said in amusement as he approached again and sat on the edge of the bed.

“How could you take advantage of a helpless, crippled Sylvari like me” Gwyleon jested as he felt his confidence build again.

Trahearne raised a brow at that.

“I wouldn’t say helpless is the correct word to describe you, Commander.”

“Well, I’d sure hope not” Gwyleon said as he lifted himself up and tossed his foot over the side of the bed to sit next to Trahearne. “Once I’m up and moving again, I expect you to teach me something useful.”

“As is your wish, Gwyleon” Trahearne smiled.

 


	13. Eye on the Prize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyleon's road to recovery isn't as long as he imagined it would be, and he is soon thrust into the heat of battle once more to find out Zhaitan's secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It has been a little while, hasn't it! I'm back with a few new chapters and I hope to continually release them until the end of this arc, at which I will proceed to Living World Season 2 and of course, Heart of Thorns! Enjoy!

A thick verdigris miasma hung about the area that Gwyleon found himself trapped in. His legs felt heavy, and his body sickly. It was as if he had been thrown haphazardly back into the dream by an unknown force.

Glowing green eyes surveyed the area, it appeared to be the entrance to the Grove, otherwise known as southern Caledon Forest. Yet, there wasn’t another soul nearby, and his view of the surrounding area only extended about 50 feet before the sickly green essence blocked his view further.

“Ugh…” Gwyleon rubbed his aching head, he did not think that he’d be able to explain this feeling through mere words.

His pulse began to quicken as he sensed some sort of presence drawing nearer. Fear began to crawl into his heart as he frantically searched for his great sword, which was nowhere to be found. The idea that he was alone and defenseless made the color drain from his face.

The presence drew nearer still until a mass of thickly woven, thorny vines burst from the ground in front of him. They were coated in what appeared to be a potent magic that he had not felt before. Gwyleon willed his feet to run in the opposite direction, but they would not listen.

The vines tightened together to form a spiky appendage that stared down at the young Sylvari. His eyes widened with fear as the vine thrust towards him. A terrified scream ripped from his lungs as everything fell to darkness.

\---

“Ahhhh!” Gwyleon shrieked as he flew upwards in the cot in which he shared with Trahearne. Beads of verdant green sweat trickled down the side of his face as his pupils danced around the area frantically.

The young Necromancer glanced down at the vibrant glow on his arms where the sap beneath his skin flowed quickly in fear, but now began to slow and fade away.

Suddenly, the door to the chamber of Fort Trinity lurched open, starting Gwyleon for another moment before Trahearne rushed in. The Firstborn looked ruffled by whatever he had heard.

“Gwyleon! By the Pale Tree, are you alright? I heard screaming!” worry laced within in his usually calm, collected voice. Bright golden eyes searching the younger Sylvari for some sort of explanation as he kneeled down next to the cot.

“Thorns…” Gwyleon groaned as he lifted his hands up to rub his face. “I must have had a bad dream… It felt so real, but it wasn’t, hopefully.”

Trahearne rubbed his chin in thought, a puzzled expression written on his features. “Well, at least you’re alright. I was truly concerned, I’ve never heard something like that come from your mouth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean” Gwyleon peeked at Trahearne with half-lidded, unamused eyes.

“Nothing of ill intent, I assure you!” the Firstborn ran his fingers through the pale brown, ripped fronds on his head. “What I mean is, I have never heard you so… Afraid before.”

Gwyleon held Trahearne’s gaze for a moment with emerald eyes, “It’s nothing, I am sure many have experienced a bad dream such as what I experienced. I heard some humans talking about it, saying things about the sights in Orr plaguing them with bad dreams.”

“So you mean Orr-”

“No” Gwyleon interrupted “I am not afraid of Orr or what it has to bring me in the future. This dream wasn’t about Orr, nor do I see how it matters now.”

Trahearne clicked his tongue with faint irritance, but conceded defeat on the subject “Alright. I’ll leave the topic alone then.”

Gwyleon’s mind suddenly shifted to something different and he smirked. “Now, you said that you were going to teach me something valuable while I was recovering, correct? It has been a while, and while I’m not one-hundred percent, I’d like to at least get out of the fort for a short time, if you would allow me to do so.”

\---

“Trahearne.” Gwyleon spoke softly as he looked up at the clouds that were beginning to clear. A beautiful blue sky that was being assaulted by black, sickly clouds in the distance hovered overhead.

The pair of Sylvari were sitting on a log that was resting on the shoreline just outside the coastal fort. It was safe for them to be outside now. Most of the Risen patrols and residual corruption had been cleared from the area, and the Pact was on the final stretch of their assault on the continent in which Zhaitan claimed as its fortress.

It had been about a week since Gwyleon’s venture into the temple. His leg was about halfway healed now. It appeared that, when aided by menders, Sylvari had a stronger natural healing ability than most of the Pact had expected. Surprisingly, he didn’t mind staying at the fort for now, especially considering the fact that Trahearne had not left his side since he returned.

Fortunately, the Pact had gotten an influx of soldiers led by officers who were competent enough to hold the line while the two leaders stayed within the walls. Even with his injured leg, Gwyleon was able to learn some new necrotic magic which did not require his weapons and strength as much as it required his mind and essence.

Trahearne was in the middle of scrawling some notes onto a brown leather-backed booklet that he often kept at his side when he looked up at the younger Sylvari. Gwyleon would catch his partner writing in it quite often after certain journeys or progress in their assault. Perhaps a diary of sorts.

“Yes?” Trahearne asked welcomingly.

“I have to say I’m getting quite impatient with sitting around like this. I know I’m not fully healed yet, but this is getting moderately... Well… Boring for lack of a better term” Gwyleon rubbed the back of his neck in an awkward manner.

A soft chuckle fell from Trahearne’s lips as he shut his book with a quiet thud. His golden eyes shifted over towards the crutch that Gwyleon had been leaning on for a couple days now.

“I guess that should be expected of you, eager to press onwards even when you’re injured. Perhaps you should take some time to observe the world around you quietly. Orr will not rise out of the depths and float away, I assure you.”

Gwyleon clicked his tongue. He figured that Trahearne would say something like that. The Firstborn always seemed quite content with sitting around, listening to the birds and viewing the nature around him. He didn’t have the same kind of lax personality though. He wanted to do something productive.

“I recall you saying that you’d teach me something useful. Something relating to Necromancy?”

Trahearne raised a brow “What did you have in mind?”

Gwyleon grabbed his wooden crutch and slid off of the log. He wasn’t very good at balancing himself using such a flimsy human-make tool, but it would have to do for now. His leg was a mass of intertwining vines and plant-flesh which still as not stable enough to walk on.

“I may have heard a story from one of the Priory soldiers in Fort Trinity about some escapade you were part of. Something about a lich and a trapped Priory team and a book of some sort. I didn’t really care much about the book part, but, I did hear something about you summoning what… Six Flesh Golems?” Gwyleon’s ears tilted forward as he eagerly awaited Trahearne’s response to the accusation.

The Firstborn looked away and held an evasive expression for a couple moments before he spoke “Perhaps… I did not wish to worry you at the time, it was a small issue, nothing more.”

Gwyleon lowered his eyelids “Small? I don’t think the word ‘small’ is a good descriptor for a situation in which you summoned six of those golems. I can hardly manage one, and it doesn’t listen very well.”

“It isn’t an entirely... pressing matter for you to know how to summon as many undead as compared to myself” Trahearne began explaining carefully “It appears that you rely more on your abilities in front-line combat where as I rely more on my summoning skills and other types of Necromancy even though we wield the same type of weapon. For my whole life, I used a more long-range set of weapons where as you have always used a greatsword.”

A huff came from Gwyleon as he ran his fingers through the leaves on his head “You have a strange way of making me feel like both a sapling and a Commander at times, you know” he chuckled.

Trahearne slipped off the log and placed his hand on Gwyleon’s shoulder “I do not mean to come off that way, I assure you. On a more related note, there are some things that I could teach you that would be useful to your type of fighting style.”

Gwyleon cocked his head “Like?”

“Well, first of all” Trahearne took a few steps forwards and looked at a clear patch on the ground. “Summoning is actually a moderately difficult ability for those who delve into Necromancy. As much as I’d say it could work for you on a larger scale, you’re actually the first Necromancer I’ve seen use a greatsword other than myself. Most Necromancers use scepters, axes, daggers, and smaller weapons.”

“I know as much” Gwyleon crossed his arms.

“What I’m trying to explain is, this is moderately new to me as well, at least, the style of weapon such as Caladbolg.” Trahearne lifted his hand halfway into the air and closed his palm onto some dark, misty energy that seemed to appear from mid air and looked back at Gwyleon. “Despite having as much magical ability as I do, I’m sure that you could best me with your fighting skill, since I have not seen it before. Not to mention, my own shroud has changed to become more like yours. It is a power that I am not used to.”

“Hmm” Gwyleon hummed “Is that so? I hope you’re not saying that you want me to teach you, because unfortunately, I can’t” he smirked as he held out his recovering leg. “Besides, I have some surmise that you’re not letting on just how powerful you actually are.”

Trahearne attempted to suppress a deep chuckle that escaped his lips as the shadowy wisp danced around his fingertips. “Perhaps I’m just not as powerful as you think I am, and I’ve convinced you of such” he winked.

Gwyleon narrowed his eyes “You’re going to drive me insane, I know it. But I think that’s enough fooling around for now. You said that you’d show me something, you know. I won’t let you stall me with your scheming words.”

Trahearne rolled his eyes when he realized that his game had been discovered “Alright, alright” he sighed as his fingers closed around the wisp and the shadowy magic enveloped his hand.

“Rise!” Trahearne called.

As commanded, 10 small, rat-like undead minions broke from the earth. The packed soil flew outwards and a familiar magic hung in the air. Their skin hung off of their bloodied bones and the sinew just barely seemed to hold together the fragile frame of the creatures.

The charged magic in the air told Gwyleon that this was an incredibly small fraction of what Trahearne could actually do. Disappointingly though, unlike the Flesh Golems, these minions were runty, and appeared as if they’d fall apart at even a soft breeze.

Gwyleon raised a brow in a most unimpressed way.

“These are called Shambling Horrors, their purpose is simply to explode on your target. Otherwise, they don’t have much fighting capability, and don’t last very long” Trahearne’s voice fell to a more casual tone with that.

“That sounds… Sufficient, I guess. That doesn’t seem like a skill you would use though. I can’t entirely explain why, but it just doesn’t seem like you’d summon these creatures with such little staying capability when concerning the fighting style I’ve seen you use.”

“That’s because it isn’t” Trahearne smiled “Before I began wielding Caladbolg and using a similar fighting style to you, I was not able to summon these creatures. In fact, once I learned how to summon them, I still did not use them. I found them too… Kamikaze like, in Human terms,” he explained.

Gwyleon limped forwards a few steps to get closer to the potent magic that hung in the air. It felt remarkably electrifying, and was likely just a glimpse of what kind of power Trahearne was hiding.

“You’re telling me you created these and don’t even use them? What’s the point of creating them then? Forgive me if I’m a little incredulous, but I don’t see the point.”

“Created isn’t exactly the correct term, I didn’t create this ability, I actually read about something similar that regular Necromancers can summon called Bone Minions. One of the larger differences between the two is that these will also absorb damage for you in addition to being an offensive tool.” Trahearne said as the horrors fell to heaps of rotten flesh and sunk into the earth. Translucent green bubbles of life energy floated where they once stood.

“That doesn’t really answer my question” Gwyleon mumbled.

“Right” Trahearne shook his head “What I mean is, I was studying a new way to use these these creatures that would better suit you rather than me. I likely won’t use them, but I think you may, which is why I’m showing you.”

Trahearne had developed this for him to use? The sentiment warmed his heart a bit more than it should have. He had been sure that the Firstborn would be most reluctant to allow him to be alone and fight once more. Perhaps Trahearne was more considerate of him than he originally thought, as far as his interests were concerned.

Gwyleon shook away a soft blush and cleared his throat “Well, thank you for thinking of me. I think I could definitely make these work if you tell me how to summon them.”

Trahearne chuckled at Gwyleon’s reaction. The Firstborn admired how easily a gesture of kindness could get to the younger Sylvari.

“Gladly. Essentially it’s like summoning any other minion, however, instead of putting so much power into one minion, try to imagine the magic flowing to several bodies. Afterwards, you should focus on a more volatile form of death magic. Normally I use a very stable form of magic for my minions, but for some, a more volatile form is better, because they aren’t using the same type of fighting style.” Trahearne explained with lingering enthusiasm laced in his words. Obviously he had been studying different style of Necromancy for quite awhile.

The younger Sylvari propped himself upwards “So what you’re saying is, your style of fighting is more solid and concentrated where as mine is more aggressive and sporadic?” Gwyleon asked as the green bubbles of magic floated towards him and danced around his finger tips.

Trahearne nodded.

“Ah, I see…” Gwyleon trailed off as the orbs of magic fell into the skin of his right palm. “Volatile, huh?”

As Gwyleon exhaled, he could feel the pull of shadowy death magic beneath the earth. Instead of ripping upwards, he searched for a more volatile form of magic, a form in which he used exclusively, but did not utilize to its full potential. Once he tethered himself to it, he thrust his arm upwards.

“Rise!”

The stench of rotten, decaying flesh permeated the air as 6 Shambling Horrors burst from the ground. They clawed for the surface frantically and made furious screeching noises.

They were different from Trahearne’s minions. Gwyleon’s were littered in jagged bone spikes and a sickly green ooze dripped from their mouths as they searched for prey with dead, lifeless eyes.

Gwyleon didn’t notice Trahearne’s eyes widen and his ears tilt forward in eager interest.

“This is most intriguing! They are very different from those of which I summoned. I’m not entirely sure why, but perhaps these types of minions have different appearance variants depending on who wields the spell…” Trahearne trailed off as he kneeled down and examined one of the creatures which hissed at him ferociously.

These minions were far easier to control than the Flesh Golem in which he tried to summon several times before. He could feel a more familiar magic in his veins, the magic of a Reaper.

Gwyleon leaned back onto his crutch and watched Trahearne poke and prod at the horrors. A smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he noticed the a glint of unmistakable happiness in the Marshal’s eyes.

“It’s quite amusing to see you acting like a Sapling when you see something new” Gwyleon chuckled.

“Sapling?” Trahearne’s genuinely confused voice rang as he looked at Gwyleon with squinted eyes.

“Nothing, nothing.” Gwyleon chuckled softly.

\---

About a week and a half had passed since Trahearne and Gwyleon had begun experimenting with new types of magic that could be used in battle. It was shortly after the younger Sylvari had made a full recovery that the mission in which to cripple Zhaitan was to commence.

“I don’t think this is a very wise idea. How do you know the magic is even strong enough to catch the attention of the eye?” Gwyleon crossed his arms audiciously.

The submarine ship that Trahearne, Carys, Tegwen, and himself were riding in made a soft clinking noise accompanied by a constant hum from the engine as it drifted towards the shores of Orr. Their target was an Eye of Zhaitan, one of the creatures that Gwyleon encountered within the forgotten temple.

Their cargo was something of incredibly importance, a silver mirror adorned with Orrian markings and designs was covered in a white, patched cloth. The same mirror that had caused Gwyleon so many issues prior to his initiation into the Vigil.

It was safe to assume that it was still a sore subject. The last time he came in contact with the mirror, Trahearne had been furious with him for allowing Tegwen to be lost to them within the portal the artifact produced

“Gwy- er, Commander” Trahearne corrected himself as he looked at Carys and Tegwen. “I realize that your last encounter with the mirror may not have been the best experience, but I believe that this is the best chance that we have to catch one of the eyes.”

“Yeah… I know that much” Gwyleon sighed as his veridian eyes flickered off to the side.

“I also think it’s a decent plan!” Carys interjected. “But, the mirror is linked to Orr, and we’re heading there right now. What if the eye knows more about the mirror than we do?”

“See?” Gwyleon held his hand outwards towards Carys “Carys knows how many risks there are in this decision!”

Trahearne huffed “I truly hope that you aren’t afraid of a little risk, Commander. This is a risk that we must take.”

The young Necromancer clicked his tongue. Trahearne really knew how to get him to shut up when he needed to.

It was quiet as the ship landed upon the southern shore of Orr. They were across the watery expanse from Fort Trinity, and could just barely see it peeking over the opposite shore. Tegwen was in charge of handling the mirror, as she had the most experience with it. They carried their cargo towards a large opening which may have once been a field full of buttercups.

Trahearne pointed towards a dead, decrepit husk of a tree that stood near the edge of the dead pasture. “That’s where we’ll place the mirror, hopefully, our quarry will take the bait. If not, well, we will attempt to remedy the issue when it arises. I believe the mirror is enough to catch Zhaitan’s attention.”

Gwyleon sighed as they watched Carys and Tegwen place the mirror next to the tree. The two Valiants ran back to the spot in which they had all chosen to hide briskly.

A fallen log that was large enough to conceal them would be enough considering there were no Norn present on this mission.

The muffled sounds of undead birds echoed through the air, and the stench of rotten, putrid flesh clung to them like a sickness. Orr was indeed a very repulsive place to be. In the beginning of his journey, Gwyleon felt that it could potentially be futile to revitalize a land so corrupted as Orr. But, he decided that he would be confident in such a task, for Trahearne’s sake.

It wasn’t long before Gwyleon began to sense an approaching presence. Such a malicious intent wasn’t only noticed by him, either. He noticed Trahearne visibly stiffen as it crept closer and closer out of the corner of his eye.

“Stand ready, everyone. I can feel Zhaitan’s influence closing in on us. Whatever draws near is deadly…” Trahearne whispered gravely.

What approached from the distance was indeed one of the red floating eyes in which Gwyleon had seen at the Temple of the Forgotten God. The servant was flanked on both sides by two Risen guards. Each one resembling a rotting zombie with flesh hanging off its bones.

The glowing green eyes of the Risen guards slowly shifted to where the Sylvari were hidden. The Eye of Zhaitan only stared at the mirror, yet Gwyleon could feel a piercing chill in his veins.

“Fools…” The eye hissed in a callous tone. “You cannot hide from me, Zhaitan sees all, and I bid the will of my master.”

With a wave of the creature’s riged, tentacle-like arms, the mirror sprung to life. The glass frosted on the front of the mirror shattered and rose into the air until the pieces were drifting around in a sphere of death magic.

“We must stop him!” Tegwen shouted “The mirror is responding to his commands, he’s opening a portal!”

“Thorns” Gwyleon cursed as he felt for the handle of his sword.

Trahearne’s eyes widened “Hurry! We must stop this before we have a whole Risen army here!”

Gwyleon didn’t need to be told twice to begin the assault. He bounded over the log with his great sword in hand, allies following close behind. The eye’s Risen minions paid no attention to the approaching attackers as they charged forwards.

The young Necromancer was halted from shouting a command to summon his Shambling Horrors as he felt himself stop in his tracks, exhaled breath being ripped from his lungs. The tip of his thorn blade scraped the earth as he tried to tighten his hand around the handle. Behind him, his party members were in similar positions.

“Feeble” the cruel voice of the eye rung out. “To think that such weak creatures such as yourself would ever have a hope of defeating the dragon.”

“It’s drawing power from the mirror!” Tegwen choked out.

“Even together you are not enough to stand against me. Come, Zhaitan wishes to dispatch of you itself.”

Trahearne fought against the binds furiously, but even his magic was not able to break him free if he was to dry the power that the mirror was providing to the eye. Caladbolg shown defiantly in the grasp of the death magic as the Firstborn began to feel his feet slipping. “It’s pulling us in! The mirror is blocking my magic! I can blunt the effect, but-”

Suddenly, a blinding white light and the feeling of weightlessness overtook Gwyleon. The ground beneath him fell away until he felt himself land on a sandy water bank with a ragged thud.

The distant sound of whispered squeaks reached his ears before he was able to open his eyes. The feeling of tiny, scrabbly paws poking at the leaves of his armour made his eyes fly open and his hands immediately search for his sword.

“Be calm! We are friends! Yes!” a familiar scratchy voice made Gwyleon’s brows furrow. He sat upwards only to come face-to-face with Ftokchak, and some of the Skritt that he and Forgal saved ages ago.

“Ftokchak!- Ugh…” Gwyleon rubbed his aching temples, the sand on his hands tumbling onto his lap.

“Commander plant Gwyleon?” Ftokchak squeaked “Old friend! Glad to see you, yes, yes. We patrol this stinky place, as ordered. Surprised to see you and more plants, yes, yes.”

“Gwyleon!” Tegwen shouted when she saw him. “Stay back, you’re crowding the Commander!” she rushed forwards and knelt at his side. “They found me on the riverbank, with you as well it seems. Quite odd though, I’ve never seen Skritt in the Pact before” she said as she looked at the group of Skritt warriors.

Ftokchak appeared miffed, his tiny nose wrinkling “Hmph…” He grunted. “Your problem, yours. Not mine. Skritt joined Pact after Commander saved us, showed us we needed to join in against the dragons, yes.”

“It’s alright Tegwen” Gwyleon assured as he collected his thorn blade, which was thrown a couple feet away. He turned to Ftokchak and smiled, his green eyes shining brightly. “Thank you Ftokchak, we’re glad to have you, and I have to ask a favor of you. We seem to have lost some allies after a… Possibly poorly executed plan to find an Eye of Zhaitan. We need to find them.”

The lead Skritt looked back at his allies who shrugged at him in indifference. He turned back to Gwyleon and nodded, his whiskers twitching eagerly “Yes! We'll help. You lead. Together, we'll shut the big eye. Yes! Then leave this stinky place fast, fast.”

A lingering malicious intent still hung in the air, it appeared to be coming from the North, which was likely where the eye was stationed. He knew that Trahearne could feel the presence as well, thus he figured his best chance of meeting his partner was to press onwards. The crumbly sand shifted under their feet as the group made its way inland.

“Bad place, bad! Dirt, air, water, all poison” Ftokchak growled in annoyance. “Stinks like dragon dooky! Move quick, leave quick, yes-yes?”

Carys ears tilted backwards “By the Mother Tree, we cannot leave until we find Carys. She won't survive in this wretched place alone. I absolutely will not leave here alone!”

The Commander’s mind lingered on Trahearne, he knew that the Marshal would be able to take care of himself, but the idea of him being alone was still nerve-wracking to him.

“Ugh” Gwyleon grumbled “Would you both be quiet? If we’re caught by a patrol of Risen because you would not close your mouths, I’ll be most irritated. We’ll find Carys, just calm dow-” he was suddenly cut off by a very familiar battle cry in which he had heard many times before.

‘Trahearne!’ Gwyleon’s mind jumped for joy as he thrusted his body through a couple thorny bushes to reveal a more open area. Further ahead, Trahearne swung Caladbolg and decapitated a Risen zombie with little effort.

“Gwyleon!” Trahearne shouted ardently when he saw the Commander approaching with his party.

The younger Sylvari smiled and placed his hand on Trahearne’s shoulder “I’m glad that you are safe, but… Remember when I said this was a bad idea? I think I have every right to say that I told you as much.”

Trahearne simply rolled his eyes.

“Either way” Gwyleon turned to a more serious note “Where is Carys? I found Tegwen and a Skritt patrol, but I still don’t know where Carys is.”

The Marshal’s eyes looked grim for a brief moment “I don't know where Carys is, but I hope we find her before the Eye does.”

“Understood, let’s go.”

As the party of unlikely allies traveled back towards the field in which they had placed the Orrian mirror. Gwyleon spotted the form of Carys standing in a battle pose directly in front of the eye. Her hammer already had splatters of Risen blood on it where she had carved down a few of Zhaitan’s soldiers.

“You don't scare me, Blinky. I've already seen the horrors of Orr firsthand!” Carys stoic, authoritative tone threatened the eye which stared down at her menacingly, as if it was looking at a fly.

Gwyleon took the moment of respite to reach for the volatile death magic within the earth. His fingers wrapped around the magic and he pulled upwards, summoning 5 Shambling Horrors to his side. He intended to use the element of surprise to his advantage.

The Marshal knew exactly what Gwyleon was intending to do. In response, he used his own magic to summon an enhanced Flesh Golem. It appeared more intact than any of the golems that he had summoned before, almost as if the magic was more potent in this area.

“My golem will take the lead, send your horrors behind and have them latch onto the back of the eye while it is distracted. When they explode, we should be able to overpower the eye. The others must combat the minions that will be sent forwards from the mirror” Trahearne instructed to the party.

Gwyleon offered an understanding nod and sent his horrors off to the right flank with a simple movement of his eyes. The two Sylvari shared a brief hopeful expression before they parted ways.Trahearne was far better than he was at coming up with useful battle strategies. It was one of his greatest values as the Pact Marshal.

His feet carried him silently through the decaying brush and drying coral matter that littered the edge of the field. The green sickly soil kicked up behind him as he moved to a position behind the eye in which he could not be seen. His Shambling Horrors braced themselves for their fate as Gwyleon awaited the signal from Trahearne.

“Attack! Cripple the eye!” Trahearne shouted from the front of the eye, Carys whipped her head around, her eyes wide with surprised relief.

The Eye of Zhaitan hissed in fury as it noticed the party rushing its position. It turned the swirling mirror portal towards its assailants and commanded a horde of undead minions, including several hulking abominations, to charge forwards obediently. Their mouths frothed with a repulsive green liquid that melted into the ground. Trahearne’s abomination deliberately sidestepped the minions and careered straight towards its quarry as commanded by its master.

Gwyleon and his Shambling Horrors led their own charge from behind as he heard Trahearne’s battle cry. The eye screeched with rage as the horrors latched their spikes and claws into its flesh while it was distracted with Trahearne’s Flesh Golem. One by one they imploded upon themselves and sent a spray of volatile acid onto the eye, melting into its limbs.

After a brief struggle, the eye fell to the ground and writhed with agony as it sheiked. Gwyleon then followed the same path his minions took and dug his sword deeply into the back of the eye until it pierced through the other side.

With its controller devoid of life, the mirror fell into pieces on the ground, the portal was shut permanently. The rest of Gwyleon’s party finished cleaning up the rest of the minions within a short time, though some of the Skritt sustained a couple injuries.

Carys approached Tegwen gripping her arm, a light gash dripped with golden sap, “ouch” she winced. “Looks like you saved me this time, Tegwen. I'm done with that mirror, by the way. Forever.”

“That makes the two of us” Tegwen laughed softly “If we hadn't run into the Commander's friends, we would've been in trouble” she pointed towards the group of Skritt who were quite _literally_ licking their wounds.

Trahearne approached Gwyleon and sheathed Caladbolg onto his back. The younger Necromancer ripped his great sword from the eye with a quick jerk of his arm. The body of the eye seemed to cling to it for a moment.

“Well done, that went exactly how I hoped it would. The eye proved to be a much more challenging opponent than I originally thought.” Trahearne crossed his arms as his golden eyes studied the corpse.

“You think so?” Gwyleon asked sarcastically.

A sudden fatigue passed over him that he didn’t expect, his stance wavered for just a moment before he caught himself. It had been quite a new experience to use minions in a fight such as this, not to mention the extra effort he put into these horrors to make sure their explosions packed a punch. He didn’t even have to use his shroud.

A soft sigh came from Trahearne at that “My plan succeeded, but now I see how reckless it was. Orr is too dangerous to leap into blindly, you were right.”

“I wish I could hear that more often” Gwyleon grinned.

The Firstborn chuckled softly and turned to the party which was gathering around them “This effort was difficult, but it proved fruitful. Thanks to you, my friends, we now have an Eye to study.”

Carys eyebrows knitted in uncertainty “Is that wise? The Eye may still be connected to Zhaitan. Even dead, it could still be dangerous.”

Gwyleon couldn’t help but agree to a small extent. If anything, this experience proved that they didn’t know enough about their enemy. Perhaps, even though it could be dangerous, this would be their one chance to further their understanding of Zhaitan, or even find its weakness.

“This encounter proved that we don't know enough about our enemies. Studying this Eye will address that” Gwyleon explained in response to Carys’ question.

“Precisely!” Trahearne agreed. “I plan to hand this monster off to the best scientists I have at my disposal at Fort Trinity. Hopefully we can find out something useful from a couple experiments.”

\---

Shortly after their return to Fort Trinity, Gwyleon found himself aboard an airship which was hovering over the Strait of Malediction which separated the fort from the mainland of Orr. Airships were a new piece of technology that the Pact had been working on for some time. The ships were rather small, only able to hold a crew of about 15 members at max. While larger, more sophisticated airships were in development, this model was the only one approved for flight. The ship itself resembled that of a boat. Powerful magitech engines built into the bottom and back kept it airborne at all times. Wings on either side of the ship resembled sails with several large metal prongs attached to each other by a thin membrane of magic that resembled a honeycomb-like structure. The membranes could be different colors depending on what type of airship was ordered. With the development of said ships, the Pact was now able to confront Zhaitan on all fronts, land, sea, and now air.

In the hull of the ship, Trahearne and two scientists were working on some kind of device which they intended to use on the eye.

Since his recovery, he had been thrown right back into the fray. It wasn’t that he disliked fighting for Tyria against Zhaitan and its corruption, but sometimes he felt stretched thin. It felt as if there was something biting him in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t put his finger on.

The soft salty wind blew through the viridian leaves on his head, creating a barely-noticeable rustling sound. His arms were crossed over one another as he looked out over the vast ocean in the distance. The water below was incredibly dangerous. Risen sharks, zombies, fish, and other creatures lurking beneath the waves waited for their prey.

While Zhaitan was able to send its followers into the water, it seemed that the water itself was more difficult to corrupt. The few areas that it was able to corrupt were near landmarks, such as statues to the human gods. While he found it odd to focus so much on these statues, he eventually figured that they in and of themselves had some innate connection to the continent of Orr.

Gwyleon’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. Trahearne stopped next to his partner and rested his elbow on the younger’s shoulder. A bright sunrise was peeking over the horizon, casting luminous, crimson rays over the landscape and airship.

“This is truly a magnificent view, as well as a reminder of what the Pact is fighting for” Trahearne hummed. “The experiment is ready to commence, you should join us inside.”

“Ah, right” Gwyleon agreed, shaking himself from his thoughts before following Trahearne into the hull of the airship.

Within the cold metal interior of the ship, there was an Asuran scientist, introduced to him as Professor Gorr. He was accompanied by a human Scholar named Vivian. The duo were fiddling around with some intricate-looking piece of technology of Priory design. About five feet from them, the lifeless eye was floating in the air, bound by magic chains.

Trahearne led Gwyleon to stand next to Professor Gorr, “Commander, may I present Professor Gorr, who pioneered the theory of Elder Dragons consuming magic; and Scholar Vivian, a top expert on the Risen.” The two scientists bowed to Gwyleon in a more formal introduction, as he had stayed outside the hull throughout most of the journey.

“Essentially,” Trahearne continued, “We're going to send a small aetheric charge through the Eye of Zhaitan's corpse to try and project what it's seen. The goal is to witness what it saw right before we killed it. And since Orrian magic is so unpredictable, you're here to keep things under control. I’m here merely to observe and direct the operation, so I’ll be counting on you if things go awry.”

Gwyleon tilted his head to the side to get a better look at the machine that the two were working on. Complicated buttons and lights meant virtually nothing to him, as he didn’t find much interest in technology.

“I see…” He said with a most blasé tone. He felt that Trahearne was severely downplaying his own ability once again for whatever ridiculous reason. While it was enjoyable to feel needed, it was moderately annoying to see that Trahearne was hiding things.

Professor Gorr looked up at Trahearne with wide, green eyes. “Ah, but unpredictability yields unexpected results. That's not always a bad thing. In fact, that's how most new discoveries are made.”

“True, but most new discoveries don't bring the wrath of Zhaitan down on their discoverers. Manipulating the dead Eye may do precisely that,” Scholar Vivian interjected. “I believe that this could be more risky than we originally thought.”

Gwyleon’s eyebrows knitted thoughtfully, “I assume that’s why we’re on this airship instead of within Fort Trinity. At least we’ll be the only ones to feel the wrath of the dragon, if anything.”

“Indeed” Trahearne agreed “We don't know what manipulating the dead Eye will do. That's why we're not in Fort Trinity, and why the Commander's with us. Let's begin.”

Gwyleon felt a irksome pang once more with the comment again. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Trahearne was so adamant in his comments about Gwyleon. Sure, it wasn’t a bad thing to be someone that others relied on, but it almost felt like praising a sapling for something anyone could do. Before his entry into the Vigil, he would be entirely pleased to hear such comments. But now, it was making his mind run circles.

“Yes sir!” Professor Gorr jeered. His small legs carried him to the machine and he pressed a big green button. With a loud, electrified whirr, the machine sprung to life. The magical shackles on the eye tightened and made the eye face forwards, towards the front of the hull.

“Excellent. Activate the aetheric infusor on my mark: three, two, one...activate!” Gorr instructed Vivian. A pulse of electromagnetic energy pulsed from the machine to the eye, making its muscles spasm and the pupil dilate.

“All readings are within acceptable parameters. Subject is stable...it's working!”

“Confirmed,” Scholar Vivian nodded. “The projector beam is now ready for firing. Commander, if you'll do the honors?” She pointed towards yet another glowing button on the machine.

“If you insist” Gwyleon stepped forwards and pressed the button. From the base of the machine, another pulse of energy flowed towards the eye. Some sort of projection appeared from the eye and made a vision materialize.

“The apparatus is functioning. How will we know when we have usable results?” Trahearne questioned.

Professor Gorr’s eyes narrowed in the direction of the projection “We should be seeing something any moment now- look! There. There's our result!” He pointed towards a partly-transparent Risen zombie army carrying boxes with elegant Orrian designs on them.

“Some kind of scouts? Filthy looking creatures they are!” Gorr spat.

Suddenly, the image changed to a more secluded area. Orrian temple etchings lined the sides of the transparent room. The servants from before approached another one of the beings that Gwyleon saw at the Temple of the Forgotten God. The Mouth of Zhaitan snatched one of the boxes from the zombie greedily and tossed it into its gaping maw. Green saliva dripped from the orifice at the seemingly delicious items.

Gorr gasped in surprise “Did you see that? Zhaitan's agent just consumed a powerful magical artifact!”

“I saw it, Professor” Scholar Vivian confirmed. “Your theory is now a confirmed fact. But what was that creature?”

“Let's finish testing before we interpret our results” Trahearne urged. Something about his voice made Gwyleon feel uneasy.

From the corner of the vision, a second eye appeared and hovered beside the Mouth of Zhaitan. Gwyleon felt a chill run down his spine as the eye seemingly stared through the vision and directly at the group that was viewing it. Its red, piercing eye dug deeply into him, his skin felt like it was on fire.

“Marshal Trahearne! Look there: another Eye! What does it mean?” Professor Gorr asked, seemingly unaware of how tense the air had become.

Trahearne shifted his narrowed eyes towards Gwyleon, a silent message passing between them which agreed that something was not right. Suddenly, a roar of fury passed over the continent of Orr and the ocean in which they were gliding over. The airship sputtered and shook violently while the vision faded. From the air, pools of shadowy green death magic materialized into rotten, undead grubs all around them within the hull.

“Gwyleon!” Trahearne commanded with a single word.

“Got it!” With a most nimble movement, Gwyleon unsheathed his sword and turned it towards the grubs, which were spitting acid towards the direction of the scientists. With his greatsword thrust forwards, he called a shadowy hand to pull the grubs towards him. His shroud was called forth, coating his body in black wisp, clawed hands wrapped around the handle of a scythe which materialized in replacement for his sword. Gwyleon lurched his arms backwards and with a single swing of the massive weapon, he impaled the grubs that were gathered around him. The blade carved through their bodies until they exploded into bubbles of green death magic.

Gwyleon’s shroud disappeared as he absorbed the magic into his palm. It was a very weak form of death magic, it must have been some kind of first wave to test their defenses.

“By all Six Gods, what was that?” Scholar Vivan peeked out from behind the machine, her eyes wide with fear.

“That roar…” Professor Gorr looked back at where the vision once was “T-that other Eye...it looked at us. Through us! Zhaitan must see what it sees, there is no other explanation!”

“Well that’s a start at least” Gwyleon huffed. His sword still held firmly in his hand. That sickly feeling was still growing ever steady in his heart. The fight was not yet finished.

Trahearne shook his head and unsheathed Caladbolg “We're not done yet, nor are we out of danger. Commander, to me” he ordered as he summoned an enhanced Flesh Golem.

“We’re being watched” he said in a hushed tone to the younger Necromancer “I can feel a presence, can you as well? The dragon knows what we're doing, it seems it has sent reinforcements which intend to remain hidden.”

“I can” Gwyleon confirmed “It’s greasy, like a petulant fog clinging to my skin. I can’t see them though, can you reveal them?”

Trahearne’s golden eyes danced around the hull “I can, however, there's no way to know how many we'll face, but we cannot risk taking any along with us.”

The magic in the air was charged with death magic around them. It was easy for Gwyleon to latch onto it and use it to summon his Shambling Horrors. They materialized out of thin air as Trahearne drew power from Caladbolg and revealed their assailants. Orrian Wraiths hissed with fury and immediately lurched forwards in attack.

Gwyleon sent his horrors to their fate, each one latching onto a wraith and exploding into a putrid acidic mixture. The two Necromancers made quick work of the wraiths once they had been damaged by Gwyleon’s horrors. The essence that they left behind was volatile, but he could now handle the excess magic and collected it eagerly to fuel the magic needed to materialize his shroud.

Trahearne closed his eyes for a moment as his Flesh Golem fell into a heap of essence “I can sense no more of the Risen… I think we’re in the clear.”

Gwyleon sheathed his sword after surveying the area thoroughly “You know, if the dragon can see through the eyes of Zhaitan, then it is possible that the way it consumes magic is through the mouth.”

“I concur,” said Vivian “Zhaitan's agents serve as extensions of its body, acting on its will. The Eyes survey, the Mouth consumes.”

Professor Gorr’s eyes lit up in elation “That answers many questions raised by my theory, actually! Now we know how the dragon hunts and eats. That's progress!”

Gwyleon was a little confused by Gorr’s overjoyed reaction to hearing this information. What this really meant was that there was more work to do before proceeding with their assault on Zhaitan itself. Chances are, the Mouth of Zhaitan wouldn’t be as much of an issue as the eye, but it was still going to be a challenge to find it.

“We can't let up. If killing the Eye partially blinded Zhaitan, then killing the Mouth should deprive it of sustenance.” Trahearne rubbed his chin in thought. “Pact scouts have traced one of the Mouths to its lair,” he added, almost as if the Firstborn had read Gwyleon’s thoughts.

“Well that answers my question” Gwyleon chuckled.

Trahearne did not seem as amused “Unfortunately, there is an entirely pressing matter that I must attend to as soon as I get back to the Fort concerning a new piece of airship technology. I will not be able to accompany you to dispatch the mouth, but I have several Pact members on standby who will accompany you. We've identified an Orrian manor that's receiving shipments of powerful magical items on a regular basis. It's called Kitah Manse.”

Gwyleon narrowed his eyes at Trahearne who held his gaze steadily.

“That being said” he continued. “There are two ways we can go about this, one is a bit safer, but not as decidingly effective. We can either attack and kill the mouth directly, assuming the mouth can be killed like the eye, that is. Alternatively, we can cut off its food supply by attacking the caravan that is providing it with sustenance.”

“Well you should know which method I prefer in this situation” Gwyleon raised a brow.

The Firstborn’s ears tilted backwards “Yes… Right” The hesitance in Trahearne’s voice made Gwyleon feel just a bit guilty. “I'll have Explorer Hekja muster a squad and meet you at Kitah Manse as soon as you are ready.”

He knew that Trahearne cared about him deeply and feared losing him, but, he was confident in his abilities now more than ever. Being unable to prove as useful as he wanted to in the temple weighed heavily on his mind, and he would correct that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you say it, yes, I know that I added a bit to the canon abilities of the Shambling Horrors which are summoned with "Rise!" I felt that Gwyleon needed a new ability that he could fall back on, something unique to him as one of the first Reapers. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, there is more to come!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me any comments with critique! It means a lot to me :)


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